THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


6 


/hW/^4  ^ 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2010  witii  funding  from 

University  of  Nortii  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/stormypetrelhistOObowl 


"And  he  tossed  the  babe,  which  came  spinning  through  the  air  directly  into  CI 
arms." — Page  6 


THE 


_5)T0rmyT?etrel 


A.N 


1b!0toi1cal  IRomance 


BY 

COL.   JOHN   BOWLES 


NEW  YORK 

A.    LOVELL   &    C^O, 

LOXUOX 

WALTER  SCOTT 


Copyrighted   in   1892 
JOHN  BOWLES 


All  rights  reserved. 


DEDICATION. 


TO 

AN   INTELLIGENT 

AND  UNITED  PEOPLE,  NORTH 

AND  SOUTH,  WITH   ONE   COUNTRY,  ONE 

FLAG  AND  ONE   COMMON   DESTINY,  THIS  LITTLE 

VOLUME   IS  IN  THE   UTMOST  FRATERNITY 

AND    WITH    THE    GREATEST 

PLEASURE,  SINCERELY 

DEDICATED. 


602728 


PREFACE. 


On  looking  backward  from  the  present  time  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  realize  that  almost  half  a  century  has  passed  since 
the  events  related  in  the  opening  chapter  of  this  little 
volume  occurred,  and  what  wonders  have  been  wrought 
by  that  master-magician — Time  ! 

On  the  banks  of  that  great  river  where  the  little  Petrel, 
bound  by  law  to  a  merciless  master,  was  cast,  before 
the  wondering  gaze  of  the  author,  upon  the  troubled 
waters  of  a  stormy  life,  there  now  waves  the  flag  of  free- 
dom for  all  men,  white  and  black  alike,  encompassing 
within  its  sacred  folds  the  lowly  and  the  lofty,  the  rich 
and  the  poor,  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  to  the  St.  Law- 
rence, and  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific. 

The  angry  passions  of  the  border  strife,  then  just 
awakening  into  fury,  have  well-nigh  burned  out,  after  a 
terrific  contest  of  four  years  and  the  more  than  twent}'- 
five  of  recuperation  and  repose. 

The  North  and  South  are  better  acquainted,  and 
hence  better  friends,  with  juster  estimate  of  each  other's 
attributes.  The  South  no  longer  accuses  the  North  of 
cold,  commercial  "  cowardice,"  nor  does  the  North  speak 
sneeringly  of  Southern  "bluster  and  braggadocio."  How 
far  from  the  truth  were  these  epithets  recent  history  re- 
counts. If  love  of  country  and  determination  to  defend 
with  life  and  fortune  cherished  and  sacred  rights,  as 
understood  by  each,  if  these  be  patriotism  and  heroism, 
then  was  this  country.  North  and  South,  filled  with  pa- 
triots and  heroes  of  the  highest  order. 

The  contents  of  this  story  are  in  a  great  measure  rem- 
iniscent, and  the  impelling  motive  in  writing,  or  rather 
in  publishing  it,  has  been  to  do  justice  to  characters 
whose  acts  and  motives  have  been  too  long  and  widely 
misunderstood. 


PREFACE, 

Since  the  passions  of  the  hour,  together  with  man}^  of 
the  chief  actors  have  passed  away,  the  author  feels  at  Hb- 
erty  to  do  this  act  of  justice  to  the  memory  of  the  innocent, 
without  harm  to  the  guilty  or  fear  of  giving  pain  to  the 
misguided  of  either  section.  In  dealing  with  historical 
events,  the  author  has  been  careful  to  state  only  what 
he  knows  personally  or  has  upon  reliable  testimony; 
while  in  that  which  relates  to  the  Southern  people,  he 
has  quite  naturally,  being  himself  a  Southerner,  earnestly 
striven  to  be  fair  and  just.  Having  but  few  friends  to 
reward,  and  no  enemies  to  punish,  there  has  been  nothing- 
extenuated,  nor  aught  set  down  in  malice. 

J.B. 


THE  STORMY  PETREL. 


CHAPTER  I. 


One  stormy  day  in  November,  185-,  at  a  point  not  far 
from  the  confluence  of  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri,  a 
man  could  have  been  seen  \vall<ing  with  rapid,  swinging 
gait  down  the  steep  bluff  of  the  western  bank  of  the  river. 
His  tall  form  was  enveloped  in  a  capacious  fur-trimmed 
overcoat  and  top-boots,  while  a  soft  felt  hat  was  drawn 
well  down  over  a  handsome  face,  the  cleanly-cut  lines  of 
which  were  only  partially  veiled  by  a  brown  beard  and 
mustache. 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  and  gazed  intently  upon  the 
scene.  Ragged  islands  of  floating  ice,  of  every  imagina- 
ble shape,  covered  the  surface  of  the  great  river,  which 
glided  serpent-like  on  its  devious  way,  with  these  great, 
glistening  scales  upon  its  back,  as  if  eager  to  meet  its 
mighty  rival,  the  Mississippi,  which,  clad  in  like  polar 
coat-of-mail,  was  waiting  only  a  few  miles  beyond.  There 
these  giants  would  meet  and  grapple,  rush  on  and  on  in 
fierce  struggle  for  the  master}',  each  maintaining  its  sepa- 
rate and  distinct  life  until  melted  and  forced  to  mingle 
under  the  burning  sun  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 

After  pausing  for  a  moment  to  enjoy  the  wild  spectacle, 
Frank  Clayton  walked  on  rapidly,  as  if  to  keep  pace  with 
some  great  section  or  continent  of  ice,  that  now  stood  on 
end,  and  again  on  one  side,  till  at  last,  with  a  thundering 
swash,  it  was  merged  into  the  mass  of  its  fellows. 

The  table-land  extending  along  the  opposite  bank  of 
the  Missouri  shut  out  the  view  beyond,  until  circumscribed 
to  the  limits  of  the  little  county  town  of  St,  Charles,  with 


b  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

its  red  brick  couri-lKjust;,  its  modest  cliurch-spires,  a  few 
IDretentious  stores  and  dwellings,  and  the  country  inn,  dig- 
nified by  the  nanie  Palace  Hotel,  while  near  it  was  the 
ferry-boat,  lying  at  the  water's  edge,  now  crowded  by  the 
ice-gorge  out  upon  the  bank.  There  was  no  smoke-stack 
to  this  wonderful  craft,  and  only  the  semblance  of  a  cabin, 
with  pilot-house  |)eiched  on  top.  From  the  window  of  the 
cabin  stood  peering  out  the  motor-power  of  this  nonde- 
script boat,  a  mule,  his  long  ears  moving  back  and  forth, 
in  defiance  of,  or  opposition  to,  the  war  of  elements,  and 
his  sonorous  voice  at  this  moment  raised  to  its  highest 
pitch,  as  if  in  protest  at  some  new  injustice. 

As  Clayton  approached  the  dock,  his  attention  was  at- 
tracted to  a  strange  group  just  embarking  in  a  skifT,  evi- 
dently intent  on  forcing  their  way  across  to  the  St.  Louis 
shore.  He  observed  a  large  man  standing  in  the  stern  of 
the  boat,  which  was  still  fast  to  the  land,  and  holding 
what  seemed  to  be  a  bundle  of  some  kind  in  his  hands, 
raised  as  if  to  cast  it  into  the  surging  torrents  of  ice  and 
water  that  went  roaring  by.  He  heard  distinctly  the  wail 
of  a  babe  and  the  angry  oath  of  the  man,  calling  out  to  a 
few  persons  who  were  standing  on  the  shore  :  "  Here, 
some  of  you  take  this  damned  brat,  or  by  God,  I'll  throw 
it  in  the  river  !  " 

Clayton  saw  that  the  brute  was  in  earnest ;  and,  springing 
with  a  bound  down  the  cliff,  holding  out  his  arms,  he  said 
fiercely  :  "  What  are  you  doing,  man  !  Are  you  a  mur- 
derer ?  " 

With  a  savage  laugh,  the  trader,  for  such  he  was,  tossed 
the  babe,  which  came  spinning  through  the  air,  directly 
into  Clayton's  arms,  while  from  the  stern  of  the  boat  came 
a  piercing  cry,  as  of  a  broken  heart ;  and  he  saw  a  woman's 
form  sink  down,  holding  out  her  manacled  arms  in  speech- 
less agony.  "Push  off!"  said  the  trader.  "  And  some 
of  you  look  to  that  wench  that  she  doesn't  get  over- 
board." 

"  No  danger  ob  dat,  niassa.  She  done  fainted,  I  'spec," 
said  one  of  the  negroes. 

"Throw  water  in  her  face,  and  she'll  be  all  right," 
shouted  the  driver,  as  the  boat  pushed  out  from  the  bank, 
the  boatmen  busy  with  pikes  and  poles,  parting  the  ice  to 
prevent  its  crushing  the  frail  craft. 

All  upon  the  wharf  stood  breathless,  expecting  to  see 


mk' 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  7 

the  boat  and  its  contents  swallowed  up  by  the  mad  torrent, 
as  they  made  toward  the  opposite  shore.  The  shouts  of 
the  boatmen,  the  oaths  of  the  trader,  the  cries  of  the 
frightened  slaves,  the  shrieking  of  the  wind,  and  the  roar 
of  the  ice-fioe,  made  confusion  worse  confounded. 

Clayton  stood  spell-bound,  watching  the  scene,  and  hold- 
ing in  his  arms  the  little  waif,  while  the  frightened  cries  of 
the  slaves  became  fainter  and  fainter  as  the  boat  receded, 
and  the  crowd  which  had  gathered,  dispersed. 

The  child  seemed  to  feel  the  magnetism  of  Clayton's 
sheltering  arms,  for  it  lay  perfectly  quiet  while  he  opened 
the  wraps  to  look  at  the  little  creature  so  strangely  cast 
upon  his  mercy.  A  pair  of  soft  brown  eyes  looked  con- 
fidingly into  his,  and  he  felt  a  strange  thrill  of  tender- 
ness as  a  tiny,  warm  hand  closed  trustfully  over  his 
finger. 

"Poor  little  waif,''  said  he;  "poor  little  bird,  which 
stress  of  weather  has  sent  fluttering  into  my  arms,  like  the 
little  stormy  petrel,  I  shall  not  disappoint  you,  my  little 
Petrel !  I  shall  protect  you  always."'  And  somehow 
Clayton's  eyes  did  not  see  quite  as  clearly  as  before. 

And  now,  what  was  to  be  done  ?  He  thought  at  once 
of  the  motherly  woman  at  the  inn  near  by,  and  had  soon 
placed  his  strange  charge  in  the  capacious  lap  of  Tabitha 
Handy. 

"  Well,  I  never  !  "  that  good  woman  said  when  she  had 
heard  the  story.  "Well,  I  never!"  she  said  again  and 
again.  "Why,  it's  as  white  as  a  snowflake  ! "  And  she 
adjusted  her  spectacles  and  critically  examined  the  little 
one.  "And  she  ain't  no  white  trash,  neither!  Look  at 
them  hands  and  them  ears,  Mr.  Clayton,"  said  she,  with 
warming  interest.  "  Now,  for  the  Lord's  sake,  what  was 
it  doin  with  them  niggers  and  that  tradin  feller  ?  Mr. 
Clayton,"  said  she  solemnly,  "  that  child  is  stole  !  Sure 
as  you're  a  born  man,  that  child  is  stole  ! " 

"  It  may  be,"  said  Clayton,  thoughtfully.  "And  yet — 
no,  that  cry  from  the  boat — such  a  cry  as  that  could  only 
have  been  wrung  from  a  mother's  heart." 

Clayton  stepped  outside  the  door  for  a  moment,  to  ask 
a  question  of  some  one  who  had  observed  these  people, 
and  might  be  able  to  give  information  concerning  them, 
leaving  Tabitha  crooning  in  delight  over  the  child. 

"  Mr.  Clayton  !     O  Mr,  Clayton  !  "  .she  called,  with  the 


5  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

peculiar  falling  inflection  of  that  phrase  in  southern  lati- 
tudes.    "  O  Mr.  Clayton  !  " 

"What  is  it.'"'  said  Clayton,  returning. 

"  What's  her  name  ?     What  will  you  call  her.^*  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  he,  hesitating.  "  Petrel 
will  do,"  said  he,  after  a  moment.    "  Yes,  call  her  Petrel." 

"  Petrel  ?  "  said  Tabitha,  "  Petrel  ?  Well,  of  all  hea- 
thenish names  !  But  it's  of  a  piece  with  the  whole  out- 
landish business.  There's  been  some  powerful  queer 
things  in  my  life,  but  this  beats  all  I  ever  seen  !  Only 
to  think  !  She  might  er  been  floatin  round  under  one  of 
them  big  cakes  of  ice,'" — and  at  this  point  Tabitha  ad- 
dressed herself  to  the  baby; — "stid  er  bein  here  so  warm 
and  comfortable.     And  it's  a  beauty,  so  it  is !  " 

There  is,  as  everybody  knows,  a  universal  language — a 
sort  of  baby-Volapuk — which  is  supposed  to  be  adapted 
to  the  infant  understanding  in  all  lands  ;  and  Aunt  Tabi- 
tha was  mistress  of  the  resources  of  this  language.  She 
chirruped  and  chuckled,  and  grew  red  in  the  face  making 
grimaces  and  sounds  impossible  to  be  represented  here, 
but  which  were  supposed  to  be  vastly  entertaining  to 
Miss  Petrel,  who  gazed  in  mild,  unwinking  wonder  at 
this  new  scene  in  a  new  world,  with  a  calm  superiority,  as 
if  she  might  be  saying,  "  What  fools  these  mortals  be!  " 

"  Poor  little  dear,  poor  little  dear  !  "  And  the  warm- 
hearted woman  busied  herself  making  a  soft  nest  for  the 
storm-tossed  bird,  and  clucked  over  her  in  as  much  de- 
light as  a  hen  over  its  one  little  downy  chicken. 

Clayton  was  impressed  with  the  idea  that  the  child  had 
been  stolen  ;  and  yet  the  swooning  of  the  slave  and  her 
imploring  words  seemed  to  come  from  the  pleading  of  a 
mother's  heart. 

Every  effort  was  made  during  the  day  to  induce  some 
of  the  boatmen  to  ferry  him  over  the  river,  but  to  no 
purpose ;  for  the  ice  was  running  thicker  and  faster  than 
during  the  morning.  The  captain  of  the  ferry-boat,  run 
by  mule-power,  was  a  man  of  large  river  experience,  and 
advised  against  an  attempt  to  cross  with  such  a  run  of 
ice.  He  said  the  night  would  be  cold,  and  by  morning 
the  river  would  bridge  over.  Then  reckless  men  who 
were  willing  to  risk  their  lives  were  at  liberty  to  do  so, 
"but  he  vvarn't  goin  to  help  em  kill  themselves." 

So  Clayton   waited  impatiently,  till,  on   the    following 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  9 

morning,  from  his  hotel  window,  he  observed  that  the  ice 
stood  still  in  tlie  river,  and  resolved  upon  the  effort  to 
cross  and  make  his  way  to  St.  Louis  as  rapidly  as  possi- 
ble, to  learn  the  fate  of  the  mother  of  the  little  waif  who 
was  snatched  from  the  jaws  of  death. 

"  Stranger,"  said  the  captain,  "  hold  that  ere  pole  eggz- 
actly  in  the  middle,  and  pick  your  way  carefully  along,  so 
if  you  step  through  one  of  them  infernal  slush-holes 
atween  them  cakes  of  ice,  your  pole  will  hold  you  up,  if 
\  ou'll  only  stick  to  it,  which  I  advise  you  to  do  closer  an 
death  to  a  dead  nigger.  It's  your  only  salvation  in  a 
]ilace  like  that.  Don't  try  to  go  straight  across,  but 
kinder  lean  down  to  our  dock,  an  I  guess  you'll  come 
over  all  right." 

Clayton  made  the  perilous  passage  as  a  group  of  boat- 
men stood  watching  him  from  shore  ;  and  when  safely 
landed  found  a  conveyance,  and  set  out  for  St.  Louis. 
He  met  parties  who  had  seen  the  slave-driver  and  the 
gang  of  negroes,  and  also  the  men  who  had  ferried  them 
over  the  river.  One  of  them  volunteered  the  informa- 
tion that  the  woman  had  been  loaded  into  a  wagon  and 
hauled  away,  "talking  like  wild"  about  the  baby,  and 
"  actin  like  she  was  boun  ter  kill  herself." 

"What  color  was  she  ?  "  said  Cla\ton.     "  Very  light .''  " 

"  Kinder  lightish  copper-colored  ;  I  should  say  a  mu- 
latto or  about  'alf  and  'alf,"  shouted  one  of  the  crew, 
who  was  evidently  an  Englishman. 


CHAPTER    II. 

We  will  leave  the  Petrel  safe  in  the  care  of  Mrs. 
Handy,  and  Clayton  on  his  search  for  the  proper  guard- 
ians of  the  child,  while  we  briefly  review  the  circum- 
stances which  led  up  to  the  dramatic  incident  related  in 
the  last  chapter. 

Frank  Clayton's  earliest  home  was  a  plantation  upon 
the  Rapid  River  in  the  Blue-Grass  Region,  where  Nature 
seems  to  have  lavished  her  richest  treasures. 

Major  Lucas,  his  grandfather,  was  a  gentleman  of  the 
old  school,  whose  ancestors  came  over  from  England  with 
Lord  Baltimore  and  settled  in  Maryland.  A  son  of  the 
third  generation  emigrated  to  Kentucky  and  built  the 
substantial  Queen  Anne  house,  with  its  antique  gables, 
which  was  known  as  the  Lucas  Homestead.  This  stately 
old  home  contained  relics,  which  were  priceless  heir- 
looms in  the  family,  rich  and  rare  enough  to  turn  the  head 
of  the  modern  collector. 

The  tall  clock  upon  the  stairs,  which  had  tolled  out 
the  happy  hours  of  Frank's  childhood,  was  of  fabulous 
age,  and  the  silver  tankard  and  goblets  upon  the  massive 
side-board,  had  been  used  upon  festive  occasions  in  the 
days  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 

In  this  home,  the  early  days  of  Frank  Clayton  were 
passed  with  his  widowed  mother;  and  looking  back 
to  his  idyllic  childhood  from  the  troubled  days  that  fol- 
lowed, it  seemed  like  a  dream  of  Arcadia. 

The  Cherokee  rose  that  climbed  over  the  piazza,  framed 
a  living  picture  of  mother  and  son — a  picture  always 
fresh  and  new.  After  two  years  of  happy  married  life, 
Fanny  Clayton  was  left  a  widow,  but  also  a  mother.  The 
boy,  who  bore  his  father's  name,  seemed  a  treasure  left 
to  her  care,  for  which  she  was  to  give  an  account ;  and  so 
it  happened  that  foi  the  first  ten  years  of  Frank's  life, 
he  had  for  companion,  play-mate,  teacher  and  lover,  this 
young  mother,  who  left  the  strong  impress  of  her  own 
mind  and  character  upon  her  son. 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  H 

There  is  an  insidious  disease,  which  sometimes  even  in 
the  genial  climate  of  Kentucky,  seeks  its  victims.  Fanny 
Clayton  may  have  inherited  her  ethereal  loveliness  from 
some  remote  ancestor,  quite  unlike  the  queenly  daughters 
of  her  own  State.  Her  fragile  form  became  more  and 
more  slight,  and  the  dark  eyes  larger,  while  a  hectic  flush 
deepened  the  color  ;  and,  in  due  time,  consumption  claimed 
its  victim. 

After  the  funeral,  the  house  seemed  so  desolate.  Judge 
Stanley,  who  was  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Ken- 
tucky, took  the  little  boy  home  with  him  to  "  Beechwood," 
where  he  shared  with  his  cousin,  Kate,  Judge  Stanley's 
only  child,  lessons  from  her  governess. 

With  his  dog  and  pony,  he  was  Kate's  escort  and  com- 
panion in  exploring  the  beautiful  woods  that  border 
"Rapid  River,"  for  "  Beechwood  "  was  only  three  miles 
from  "  The  Glen,"  his  former  home. 

It  seemed  hard  to  exchange  these  childish  pleasures  for 
the  training  of  the  military  school.  "  But  you  must  pre- 
pare, my  dear  boy,"  said  Judge  Stanley,  "  for  the  rough 
and  tumble  of  life,  as — who  knows.'' — you  may  have  to 
scale  a  fortress  or  lead  a  forlorn  hope." 

But  instead  of  a  soldier,  Frank  Clayton  became  a 
lawyer.  He  was  naturally  a  student,  and  adopted  the 
scholarly  profession  of  his  uncle,  attending  law  lectures 
at  Louisville,  and  entering  the  office  of  Mr.  Wyckliffe,  a 
distinguished  member  of  the  bar  of  that  city. 

The  marriage  of  his  cousin,  Kate,  to  Bernard  Fletcher, 
summoned  Frank  to  "  Beechwood." 

Judge  Stanley,  who  loved  and  greatly  admired  his 
nephew,  had  long  and  secretly  entertained  the  hope  that 
in  time,  a  marriage  between  the  two  cousins  would  unite 
the  plantations  of  "  Beechwood  "  and  ''  The  Glen."  But 
Frank,  with  no  slightest  thought  of  sentiment  for  his 
charming  cousin,  excepting  that  of  brother  and  protector, 
had  observed  what  her  father  had  not — that  is,  her  grow- 
ing interest  in  the  handsome  young  Kentuckian,  Bernard 
Fletcher.  The  two  men  were  by  nature  thoroughly  an- 
tagonistic— Frank,  tall  and  slight,  with  deep-blue  eyes, 
brown  beard,  and  straight,  Greek  profile.  His  quick  per- 
ceptions, strong  sympathies,  and  keen  sense  of  justice 
finding  their  soil  in  the  temperment  of  a  poet  and  an 
artist — to  which  was   added  a  dash  of    the  philosopher, 


12  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

just  sufficient  to  serve  as  an  amalgam,  to  fuse  the  whole. 
But  Bernard  Fletcher,  dark-eyed  and  broad-shouldered, 
who  could  ride  like  a  Comanche,  bring  down  with  his 
rifle  anything  that  can  fly,  and  could  woo  as  well  as  he 
could  ride  or  shoot — picturesque — heroic — he  it  was  who 
had  won  Kate's  heart. 

And  to  tell  the  truth,  that  gentleman  was  not  surprised, 
nor  did  he  consider  it  more  than  his  due.  He  was  in 
love  with  Kate  Stanley  after  his  fashion,  but  was  not  at 
all  insensible  to  the  fact  that  she  was  an  only  child,  and 
prospective  owner  of  a  splendid  estate.  In  fact,  he  told 
himself  quite  in  confidence,  that  he  had  never  met  so 
nice  a  combination  of  personal  charms,  broad  acres,  fine 
intelligence,  quick,  warm  sensibilities,  perfect  manners, 
and  most  important  of  all — the  bluest  blood  in  Kentucky. 
For  be  it  known,  this  benedict  was  a  patrician  of  the 
patricians  ;  and  would  have  thrown  over  the  woman  he 
loved,  broad  acres  and  all,  and  broken  her  heart  into  the 
bargain,  rather  than  abate  one  jot  his  ideas  of  caste. 

"  I  tell  you,  my  dear  fellow,"  he  would  say,  as  he 
watched  the  blue  rings  of  smoke  interlacing  in  delicious 
curves  over  his  handsome  head,  "  I  tell  you,  blood  will 
tell." 

Frank  had  fixed  his  keen  blue  eyes  upon  him  many  a 
time,  as  he  delivered  himself  of  this  and  other  views  of 
life  ;  but  had  said  nothing,  nor  intimated  to  Kate  that 
he  had  small  respect  for  the  man  who  was  to  be  her 
husband.  And  so,  th.e  thin  surface  of  decent  amity  was 
never  broken,  although  both  men  were  perfectly  aware  of 
the  antagonisms  and  repulsions  it  covered.  And  so  it 
was  that  Frank  made  the  best  of  things,  and  came  on  to 
the  weddmg,  which  happened  to  be  appointed  for  the 
day  commemorating  also  his  twenty-first  birthday. 

The  wedding  festivities  had  passed  away  as  they  are 
wont  to  do,  with  flowers,  and  laughter,  and  smiles,  and 
tears,  and  congratulations,  and  rice,  and  slippers;  hearts 
heavy,  and  hearts  glad — and  it  was  all  over. 

The  last  carriage  had  rolled  away  ;  Kate  had  lifted  her 
bright,  though  tear-stained  face  to  be  kissed  by  her  father 
and  Frank,  and  the  handkerchief  which  fluttered  from 
the  carriage  window  had  disappeared  at  the  turn  of  the 
road. 

Judge  Stanley  and  his  nephew  came  back  into  the  now 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  I3 

deserted  house,  both  silent  and  oppressed  with  its  still- 
ness. Each  tried  to  hide  the  gloom  he  felt  at  sight  of  the 
scattered  flowers  and  confused  traces  of  the  recent 
scene. 

When  the  lamps  were  lighted,  and  they  sat  in  the  library, 
things  seemed  rather  better.  Judge  Stanley  said  :  "Well, 
my  boy,  I  have  not  forgotten  that  this  day  is  an  impor- 
tant one  for  you,  as  well  as  for  the  rest  of  us.  Twenty- 
one  years  old  to-day,"  said  he,  musingly.  "  How  time 
does  steal  upon  us  !  Why,  it  seems  only  yesterday  that 
your  mother — ah,  well,"  and  his  voice  trembled  as  he 
spoke,  "  well,  well,  Frank,  now  to  business,"  and  he  put 
on  his  briskest  tone.  "  Now,  here,"  said  he,  opening  a 
locked  drawer,  "  here,  Frank,  is  your  grandfather's  will, 
and  the  papers  that  secure  to  you  the  inheritance  of  his 
estate.  I  have  done  my  duty  as  executor,  and  you  now 
come  into  possession  of  the  plantation  of  The  Glen,  and 
forty  negroes.  This  makes  you  independent  of  any  pro- 
fession.    I  suppose  you'll  keep  Sparks  as  overseer  ?" 

"No,  sir!"  said  Clayton,  flushing,  and  showing  much 
feeling.  "  Uncle,  Sparks  is  a  coarse,  unfeeling  man,  utterly 
unfit  to  hold  power  over  these  helpless  creatures.  Old 
Ned  tells  me " 

"  Frank,"  interrupted  his  uncle,  with  some  severity, 
"  you  are  very  inexperienced  and  have  much  to  learn  on 
this  subject.  If  you  want  to  spoil  your  negroes  utterly, 
consult  with  them  in  this  manner,  and  allow  them  to  crit- 
icise white  people.  It  is  all  wrong,  my  dear  boy,"  he 
added,  more  gently.  "Sparks  is  not  a  bad  man,  and  he 
can  get  more  work  out  of  them,  twice  over,  than  you  or  I 
could." 

"I  have  long  been  looking  forward  to  this  responsibil- 
ity, my  dear  uncle,"  said  Frank,  very  steadily  and  very 
respectfully,  "  and  I  have  resolved  to  manage  my  own 
hands  for  this  year,  if  you  will  give  me  advice  as  I  need  it. 
I  will  organize  matters  at  The  Glen,  and  leave  Uncle 
Ned  in  charge  while  I  go  to  Louisville  and  make  my  ar- 
rangements for  the  change." 

"  Well,  my  boy,  you  will  find  these  fine-spun  theories  do 
not  work  well ;  but  experience  will  be  the  best  teacher.  I 
will  give  you  the  benefit  of  my  ten  years  on  theplantation, 
if  you  are  bent  on  trying  this  foolish  experiment."  And 
the  old  gentleman  sighed  as  he  went  up-stairs  in  the  great 


14  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

empty  house.     Kate's    marriage  was   not  the  on]\^  thing 
which  lay  heavily  on  his  heart. 

"Foolish  boy,  foolish  boy,"  he  said  to  himself.  "He 
has  a  good  heart,  though  I  am  sorry  to  see  it  run  away 
with  his  head  in  this  matter.  But  he  will  grow  wiser.  I 
cannot  control  him  any  longer,  but  time  and  experience 
will." 


CHAPTER  in. 

The  old  routine  of  life  at  "  Beechwood,"  was  restored 
after  the  wedding,  "and  still  the  days  rolled  on,"  as  they 
will,  be  they  good  or  be  they  ill. 

Kate  and  her  husband  were  abroad  and  would  not 
return  until  late  in  the  fall ;  so  Frank  spent  much  of  his 
time  at  "  Beechwood,"  and  more  and  more  entrusted  Ned 
with  the  affairs  at  "The  Glen." 

Kate's  letters  were  the  chief  events  in  their  quiet  life, 
and  one  was  read  and  discussed  until  its  successor  ar- 
rived. 

Frank  had  had  many  misgivings  concerning  this 
marriage,  and  scanned  these  letters  very  closely  "between 
the  lines,"  at  first,  to  discover  any  incipient  signs  of 
disappointment  or  disenchantment ;  but  no,  Kate  was 
happy.  There  could  be  no  doubt  of  that,  and  she  was 
deeply  in  love  with  her  husband,  too — that  was  equally 
clear. 

Her  choice  had  seemed  to  him  a  miserable  mistake  ; 
but  he  tried  to  believe  it  was  going  to  turn  out  for  the 
dear  girl's  happiness  after  all,  and  was  careful  to  speak 
of  Bernard  always  with  the  greatest  consideration  to  his 
uncle. 

It  would  not  be  very  long  now  before  they  would  be  at 
home,  and  then  Frank  would  have  more  time  for  his  own 
affairs,  which  began  to  press  more  and  more  seriously 
upon  his  thoughts  and  attention.  He  sat,  one  afternoon, 
upon  the  piazza,  as  was  his  custom  after  their  early  dinner, 
but  his  eyes  were  wandering  from  the  book  he  held,  down 
the  road,  with  more  and  more  frequency.  At  last  he 
said  to  his  uncle,  "  I  cannot  understand  what  detains  Ned. 
He  was  to  have  returned  at  one,  and  now  it's  three,"  said 
he,  consulting  his  watch.  "  Two  hours  behind  time.  I 
think  I'll  ride  down  and  see  what's  the  matter." 

A  few  moments  later  his  handsome  black  mare  "  Stella," 
enchanted  to  exchange  the  dull  dim  monotony  of  the 
stable  for  the    road,  the    wind,    and    the    sunshine,    was 


l6  THE   STORMY   PETREL, 

speeding  her  master  toward  the  ferry,  in  quest  of  the 
missing  servant  and  team.  She  seemed  to  think  she  was 
out  for  a  race  with  the  wind. 

"  Steady,  steady,  my  girl,"  said  Clayton,  reining  her  in 
gently,  and  laughing  at  her  exuberance. 

To  be  riding  such  an  animal  on  such  a  day,  through 
one's  own  broad  acres,  and  with  splendid  youth  in  the 
veins,  was  it  not  enough  to  make  one  feel  mere  existence 
a  joy  }  and  Clayton  was  conscious  of  a  kind  of  elation  in 
sympathy  with  the  mare,  as  she  sped  swiftly  through  the 
cool  afternoon  air. 

Things  were  going  very  smoothly  with  him.  He  did 
not  miss  Sparks  at  all.  His  uncle  had  looked  in  vain  for 
the  trouble  and  insubordination  he  had  prophesied.  No 
one  could  wish  troubles  for  those  they  love,  and  yet,  one 
does  not  like  to  lose  all /r<?j-/'/;^^  as  forecaster  of  the  future  ! 
And  never  had  the  affairs  of  the  plantation  run  as 
smoothly  as  under  this  new  regime. 

Upon  arriving  at  the  ferry,  Clayton  learned  that  Ned 
had  loaded  up  his  grist  and  then  started  for  home  a  little 
after  twelve  o'clock,  intending  to  stop  at  the  blacksmith's 
by  the  way. 

So  there  Clayton  followed  him.  To  his  surprise  he 
found  his  team  tied  to  a  post  in  front  of  the  shop,  but  no 
Ned,  and  upon  inquiry  was  still  more  astonished  to  learn 
that  his  servant  "had  done  got  into  trouble  with  Sandy 
Guiton,"  and  was  now  under  arrest  and  in  charge  of  a  con- 
stable "  up  to  the  Squire's  house." 

"Who  is  this  Sandy  Guiton,"  said  Clayton,  "a  negro?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  smith,  with  a  good  deal  of  spirit. 
"  No,  sir,  he's  a  gentleman,  and  if  you " 

"Where  can  I  find  him.'"  said  Clayton,  impatiently. 

"At  the  shooting-match,  I  reckon,  seeing  as  how  he's 
the  best  shot  in  the  county." 

And  sure  enough,  there  Clayton  found  him,  a  few  min- 
utes later  but  too  busily  engaged  in  getting  his  number  of 
shots  in  for  the  beef  to  have  anything  to  say  about  this 
matter  until  the  match  was  over;  and  all  Frank  was  able 
to  ascertain  was,  that  there  was  to  be  a  hearing  of  the 
case  at  the  conclusion  of  the  match  "  up  to  the  Squire's 
house." 

While  these  researches  were  being  made,  Clayton  ob- 
served a  whispered  conference  going  on  between  Sparks, 


THE    STORIMY    PETREL.  17 

his  discharged  overseer,  and  Ben  Baugh,  who  seemed  to 
be  master  of  ceremonies  at  the  match  ;  and  it  was  easy  to 
see,  from  sundry  glances  and  gestures,  that  he,  Clayton, 
was  the  subject  of  the  conference. 

A  few  moments  later  Ben  lounged  up  to  him,  with  an 
air  intended  to  be  very  casual,  and  said,  "  Stranger,  we 
are  going  to  shoot  for  them  ere  turkeys  soon.  Wouldn't 
you  like  to  take  a  chance  ? " 

"Thank  you,"  said  Clayton.  "I  am  not  here  to  take 
part  in  the  match.     I  am  on  more  important  business." 

"Ah!  More  important  business,  eh!  Wall,  we 
kinder  think  this  is  right  peart  and  interesting  business 
itself.  Howsomever,  what  is  it?  Maybe  I  kin  help 
yer." 

"  I  came  to  see  about  my  negro  man,  who  seems  to 
have  gotten  into  a  difBculty  with  one  of  your  party  down 
at  the  blacksmith-shop." 

"I  see,  I  see.  Then  that's  your  sassy  nigger  what 
struck  Sandy,  is  it }  Wall,  I  reckon  yer'd  better  leave  him 
in  the  hands  of  the  Squire,  till  he  gives  him  a  lesson  in 
perliteness,  an  teaches  him  how  to  treat  white  folks. 
Pears  to  me,  yer'd  better  give  him  some  lessons  of  the 
kind  at  home,  an'  then  p'raps  twouldn't  be  necessary  to 
rub  em  in  under  his  shirt." 

"  My  man  is  esteemed  a  very  well-behaved  and  respect- 
ful servant,  and  I  want  no  suggestions  or  insinuations 
from  you  as  to  how  I  should  teach  my  slaves  their  duty  to 
any  one." 

"  Yer  seem  d — n  techy  bout  this  sassy  nigger.  If  yer 
take  my  advice  and  know  when  yer  in  good  health,  yer'd 
go  home,  and  let  the  law  have  its  course.  'Twill  do  him 
a  world  of  good  and  save  trouble." 

"  I  told  you  before,  sir,  that  I  did  not  need  or  desire 
any  advice  or  suggestions  in  this  matter.  I  would  like 
to  know,  however,  who  saw  this  difficulty  and  what  it  was 
about." 

"  I  seed  it,"  said  he,  with  rising  temper.  "  And  Jim 
Sneed,  he  see  it  too.  He  was  standin  by,  and'll  swar  that 
the  nigger  struck  at  Sandy  moren  a  dozen  times,  and  hit 
him  on  the  face  oncet." 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,  I  should  have  to  see  that  m-yself,  be- 
fore I  would  believe  it." 

"  Makes  a  d — n  little  difference  to  me  what  yer  believe, 


l8  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

sir,  an  I'd  like  ter  know  if  yer  mean  to  say  you  doubt  my 
word.  Maybe  yer'd  better  call  me  a  liar,  yer  d — n  aboli- 
tionist !  I'll  war  yer  out  on  the  yearth  if  yer  say  two 
words  more  to  me."  This  was  in  2i  crescendo,  ending  in  that 
tone  of  rage  and  defiance  so  dear  to  the  hearts  of  such 
assemblies,  and  succeeded  in  making  the  two  men,  at  once, 
the  central  figures  in  an  eager  crowd  just  as  Ben  had  in- 
tended it  should ;  and  then,  turning  to  the  spectators,  who 
were  pressing  in  upon  them  he  said  :  "  What  der  yer  think, 

this  d d  abolitioner  has  come  down   yer  to  defen  and 

stop  the  whippin  of  that  sassy  nigger  what  struck  Sandy 
down  to  the  shop." 

"Can't  save  that  nigger's  bacon,  stranger;  his  shirt's 
gotter  come  oif ;  and  tain't  healthy  for  yer  to  try  and  pre- 
vent it,"  spoke  up  promptly  one  of  the  crowd ;  and  a 
dozen  voices  cried  out :  "  That's  so  ;  them's  my  senti- 
ments." 

Encouraged  by  this  Ben  Baugh  advanced  to  Clayton  in 
a  very  menacing  manner,  and  said: 

"  Now,  stranger,  yer  got  to  leave  here;  we'r  goin  to 
take  care  of  that  nigger  and  sen  him  to  yer  to-night  in 
pickle." 

Frank  looked  the  fellow  square  in  the  face,  and  calmly 
answered  : 

"  I  will  wait  until  after  the  trial  before  I  go." 

It  was  growing  more  and  more  interesting  to  the  men 
peering  over  each  others'  shoulders,  and  when  Ben  made 
a  thrust  with  his  great  fist  directly  toward  Clayton's  white, 
set  face,  the  "  match  "  was  forgotten. 

But  the  attempt  was  neatly  parried,  and  with  his  left  hand 
Clayton  swiftly  dealt  his  burly  adversary  a  fearful  blow 
under  the  chin,  which  seemed  to  lift  him  from  the  ground, 
and  he  fell  heavily,  as  if  he  had  been  shot. 

There  was  a  general  rush,  Ben  was  on  his  feet  in  an  in- 
stant. Blind  with  anger  and  the  effects  of  the  blow,  he  struck 
wildly  at  Clayton,  who  warded  the  attack  with  the  skill  of 
a  professional  boxer.  Soon  another  opportunity  offered, 
and  he  dealt  the  ruffian  a  blow  in  the  temple  which  brought 
him  down  a  second  time, 

"  Knock   the  d d  scoundrel  in    the   head,"    shouted 

some  of  the  friends  of  Ben,  and  a  rush  was  made  for  P'rank, 
who  had  been  giving  ground  to  the  crowd.  Just  at  this 
moment  a  horseman  dashed  into  their  midst,  and  shouted  : 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  I9 

"  Stop  !  in  the  name  of  the  law,  I  command  peace  ! 
Another  blow  at  your  peril  !  "  Then,  dismounting,  Judge 
Stanley  stepped  through  the  crowd  of  disappointed  onlook- 
ers, and  for  the  first  time  beheld  his  nephew. 

"  Frank  Clayton ! "  said  he,  in  utter  astonishment, 
"you  engaged  in  a  rough  and  tumble  fight  with  these 
men  !     What  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"  It  does  look  rather  disgraceful,  sir,"  said  Clayton, 
wiping  his  now  flushed  face  with  his  handkerchief,  and 
looking  about  for  his  hat.  "But  that  rufifian  attacked 
me,  and  I  had  to  defend  myself."  Then,  first  looking 
around  to  assure  himself  that  they  were  quite  alone,  the 
crowd  having  returned  to  the  match,  he  told  his  uncle 
hurriedly  about  Ned. 

"We  will  go  right  up  to  the  Squire's  office,"  said 
Judge  Stanley,  "and  talk  it  over  on  the  way." 

They  found  Ned  a  sorry  looking  object.  A  deep  cut 
over  his  eye  and  the  blood  still  unwashed  on  his  ebony 
skill. 

"Why,  Ned,  what's  the  matter?"  said  the  judge, 
kindly.     "  How  did  you  get  that  cut  over  your  eye  ?  " 

"Why,  sah,  hit  was  jes  dis  way.  I  was  hurryin  back 
to  Mars  Frank,  coz  he  tole  me  he  was  mighty  pusht  for 
time  ter  day,  an  I  jest  stopt  a  minnit  at  the  blacksmith's, 
when  a  white  gentleman  I  never  seen  befo  come  in,  an 
tole  me,  I  musn't  onhitch  my  team  til  after  de  match 
done  be  over — coz  why,  he  wanted  to  drive  home.  Well, 
sah,  of  cose  I  couldn  do  dat,  and  so  I  said  Mars  Frank 
was  waitin  an  I  muss  go  right  back  wid  de  bosses,  an 
when  I  stept  up  to  ontie  em,  he  up  and  struck  me  with 
his  stick  over  de  eye.  Den,  I  was  rested.  Fo  God, 
dat's  de  whole  story,  massa," — and  the  old  man,  whose 
voice  had  been  steady  enough  throughout  the  narration, 
had  some  difficulty  now  in  saying  these  last  words,  and 
was  evidently  overwhelmed  by  the  injustice  of  his  posi- 
tion. 

"  On  what  complaint  is  he  arrested,  Squire  ?  "  inquired 
Judge  Stanle}',  after  a  moment's  silence. 

"On  the  affidavit  of  Sandy  Guiton  that  this  man 
assaulted  him  and  struck  him  twice." 

"  Bless  de  Lord,  Massa  Frank,  I  neber  teched  him ; 
I  tried  to  keep  him  from  hittin  me,  but  I  didn't  hit  at 
him;  no,  sah,  dey  can't  make  dat  out  ginst  me." 


20  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

"  Yes,  Ned  ;  but  Sandy  and  Ben  Baugh  both  say  they 
will  swear  you  struck  Sandy,  and  he  has  a  mark  on  his 
nose  and  chin." 

"  Must  ave  scratched  hissef  for  sartin ;  I  didn't  do 
it." 

"Squire  Barker,  I  wish  you  would  continue  this  case 
until  Monday,  and  I  will  go  this  man's  bail  for  his 
appearance  at  one  o'clock  that  day." 

"  Certainl}^  Judge  Stanley ;  I  will  do  that  to  accommo- 
date you,  but  don't  you  think  it  is  a  very  aggravated  case 
which  ought  to  be  punished  promptly.-"' 

"No,  sir.  There  is  some  foul  play  in  this  case,  and  I 
know  it.  This  is  one  of  the  most  respectful,  humble 
negroes  in  all  Kentucky,  and  I  want  to  protect  him  if  I 
can  from  the  lash."  So  it  was  that  Judge  Stanley  with 
his  nephew  and  the  unfortunate  Ned,  returned  to  "The 
Glen." 

The  Judge  and  Frank  sat  till  late  that  night  conferring 
over  the  trouble. 

"  Uncle,"  said  Frank,  excitedly,  "they  must  not,  and 
shall  not,  whip  Ned.  It  would  be  monstrous  to  add 
that  to  the  injustice  with  which  he  has  already  been 
treated." 

Frank  had  many  times  paced  the  length  of  that  library 
since  dinner,  and  more  than  once  made  his  uncle  repeat 
his  reasons  for  thinking  that  Ned  had  no  chance  in  the 
trial  on  Monday. 

"But,  uncle,  seveial  negroes  stood  by  and  corroborate 
every  word  Ned  says." 

^'  My  dear  boy,  how  often  must  I  tell  you,  that  goes  for 
nothing.  A  negro  cannot  testify,  and  the  blow  you  gave 
that  ruffian  Ben  Baugh,  will  be  returned  with  accumu- 
lated interest  on  poor  Ned's  shoulders.  No,  there's  no 
way  out  of  it.     He's  got  to  stand  it." 

"Well,  it's  damnable  injustice,"  said  Frank,  fiercely, 
"  and  I,  for  one,  am  ready  to  cast  my  all  into  the  pile 
which  shall  burn  up  such  a  cruel  system." 

"Tut,  tut,"  said  Judge  Stanley;  "Frank,  my  boy,  you 
are  intemperate  in  your  language,  and  you  will  keep 
yourself  in  hot  water  all  the  time  if  you  do  not  bridle 
your  tongue.     Of  course,  you  do  not  mean " 

"I  mean  just  what  I  say,  uncle,  that  when  I  see  such 
injustice  as  this,  I  am  more  than  ever  sure  that  a  system 


TME   STORMY   PETREL.  21 

which    makes    such   things    possible    is    iniquitous,    and 
should  not  exist." 

The  old  gentleman  gathered  himself  to  his  fullest 
height  as  he  rose  to  retire,  and  said,  with  a  great  deal  of 
dignity,  "Of  course,  sir,  in  this  matter  of  Ned's,  you  will 
have  my  entire  sympathy  and  co-operation  ;  but,  when 
your  utterances  become  revolutionary,  and  subversive  of 
social  order,  we  must  part  company,"  and  not  waiting  for 
a  reply,  he  left  his  nephew  to  his  reflections. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Promptly  at  one  o'clock  on  Monday^  all  were  assem- 
bled at  Squire  Barker's  house. 

Sandy  Guiton  was  first  put  on  the  stand. 

He  said,  "he  come  by  the  blacksmith-shop  on  his  way 
to  the  shootin-match,  in  company  with  Ben  Baugh,  and 
seeing  the  team  driven  by  the  nigger  Ned  hitched  at  the 
shop,  he  asked  the  driver  how  late  he  was  goin  ter  stay." 

At  this  point,  Frank  asked  the  court  to  exclude  the 
other  witness  from  the  room,  which  request  was  complied 
with. 

Sandy  resumed  and  said  the  nigger  answered  him  and 
said :  "  I'm  goin  home  when  I  git  ready.  What  d'you 
want  to  know  my  business  for?"' 

"I  told  him,"  continued  Sandy,  "that  if  he  was  goin 
ter  stay  till  after  the  shootin  was  over,  we'd  like  to  ride 
as  far  as   he  went  our  way.     He  give   me   some  more  of 

his  sass,  and   I   called   him   a   d d  black   nigger,  and 

said  he  better  mind,  or  I'd  have  him  peeled." 

"  He  said,"  resumed  Sandy,  '  no  white  trash  in  this 
country  could  do  dat  thing  for  him.'  An  he  struck  me 
a  kinder  glancin  lick  on  the  cheek  here.  He  tried  to  hit 
me  agin,  an  I  struck  him  one  blow  on  the  head  and 
brought  him  down." 

"  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say  in  this  case  ?  "  asked  the 
Squire. 

"That's  about  all  there  was  to  it.  Squire." 

"Do  you  wish  to  cross-examine  the  witness,  Judge  ? " 
inquired  Squire  Barker. 

After  a  few  minutes"  consultation  between  Judge  Stanley 
and  Frank,  the  latter  asked  the  witness  if  there  were  any 
other  persons  present  when  this  difficulty  occurred,  and 
was  answered  in  the  negative. 

"Are  you  quite  sure  there  was  no  other  person  than 
yourself  and  companion  ?  " 

"I'm  quite  sure  there  was  no  one  present,  cept  some 
niggers." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  23 

"  You  say  you  are  quite  sure  there  was  no  white  person 
present  during  the  controversy  with  the  defendant  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  s^id  so." 

"Now,  tell  us  how  you  know  the  fact  ?  " 

"Well,  yer  see,  Ben,  he  looked  all  round  and  so  did  I, 
and  we  seed  no  one  but  these  niggers  I  spoke  of  before." 

"  Why  were  you  looking  to  see  if  there  were  any  white 
l^eople  around .-'  " 

"Cause,  if  they'd  been  bout,  I  wouldn't  er — er  said 
anything  to  the  nigger." 

"Why  not?  He  would  have  been  less  likely  to  be  im- 
pudent to  you  in  the  presence  of  several  white  people, 
than  where  there  were  only  two  ?  " 

"Oh,  well,  yer  see  every  white  man  who  seed  it  could 
swar  to  it  an  be  a  witness,  and  we  didn't  want  but  two 
witnesses  to  the  row." 

"  Did  you  know  there  was  going  to  be  a  difficulty  ?  " 

"Not  xactly;but  we  knowed  Ned  was  a  sassy  nigger 
an  would  say  something  back." 

"  Then,  we  understand,  you  wanted  to  get  into  a  dif- 
ficulty with  the  driver." 

"  No,  not  xactly." 

"We  have  no  further  questions  to  ask  the  witness,  your 
honor,"  remarked  Judge  Stanley  to  the  court. 

Ben  Baugh  corroborated  Sandy's  story  in  the  main,  but 
was  too  shrewd  to  admit,  as  Sandy  had  actually  done, 
that  it  was  a  preconcerted  plan  to  get  into  a  row  with  Ned. 

After  the  evidence  had  been  finished,  Frank  asked  the 
court  to  hear  the  statement  of  the  prisoner  at  the  bar. 

To  this,  the  squire  could  not  listen  for  a  moment ; 
it  was  not  evidence,  and  was  inadmissible. 

"I  want  your  honor  to  come  to  a  proper  understanding 
of  the  case  before  judgment  is  rendered ;  and  I  am  sure 
you  could  not  listen  to  his  plain,  simple  story  without  the 
conviction  that  he  was  telling  the  truth  and  that  these  two 
men  have  perjured  themselves  for  a  purpose." 

"Whatever  impressions  I  might  receive  outside  of  the 
lawful  testimony  could  not  influence  the  decision  of  this 
Court,  which  I  am  sworn  to  render  in  accordance  with  the 
law  and  the  facts  in  the  case,"  said  the  squire,  loftily.  "  If 
the  defence  has  no  testimon}^,  I  will  proceed  to  render  the 
judgment  in  the  case." 

"We  have  no  witnesses,"  said  Frank,  with  a  sigh. 


24  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"  I  will  read  the  law  upon  this  subject,  if  the  defence 
desire  it,  before  judgment  is  rendered." 

"  I  think  it  is  hardh'  necessary,"  said  Judge  Stanley, 
"  I  presume  you  will  feel  bound  to  enforce  the  law  by  the 
lash,  as  provided  in  the  Code,  which  leaves  no  discretion 
except  in  the  selection  of  the  person  who  is  to  inflict  the 
punishment." 

These  last  words  seemed  to  strike  Sandy  Guiton  at 
once.  He  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  I  say  Squire,  why  can't 
I  do  that?  I'd  like  mighty  well  to  be  pinted  to  do  that 
little  job,  and  I'd  do  it  mighty  neat,  too." 

Frank  Clayton's  eyes  flashed  fire  as  he  interposed. 

"  If  the  negro  must  be  punished  under  an  inhuman  law, 
I  trust  your  honor  will,  at  least,  designate  a  human  being 
and  not  a  brute  to  execute  it.  I  would  suggest  that  the 
constable  who  has  the  prisoner  in  charge,  be  designated 
to  carry  your  sentence  into  execution." 

"Don't  you  call  me  a  brute,"  muttered  Sandy,  "or  I'll 
go  through  you  like " 

"Be  silent,"  said  the  squire.  "Constable  Sampson, 
you  will  take  the  prisoner,  and  give  him  thirty-nine  lashes 
on  the  bare  back,  in  accordance  with  the  law  and  the 
finding  of  this  Court." 

"  God  hab  mercy  on  me,"  said  Ned,  bowing  his  gray 
head  in  his  hands.  "  Oh,  Massa  Stanley,"  and  he  turned 
in  agonized  appeal  to  the  judge.  "Oh,  Massa  Stanley, 
you  won't  let  dem  do  dis  ting,  I  know  you  won't.  You's 
a  judge.  Cartt  you  sabe  you  ole  serbant  from  sich  dis- 
grace }     How  kin  I  eber  hole  up  my  head  agin  ? 

"  Massa  Frank,"  and  he  turned  to  his  young  master  in 
his  extremity;  but  Frank  was  gone.  Perhaps  he  could 
not  bear  to  look  on  as  the  old  man,  with  bowed  head  and 
reluctant  feet,  followed  the  constable  to  the  barn  where 
he  was  to  receive  the  punishment. 

There  was  a  brief  pause  after  they  had  disappeared 
within.  It  did  not  require  much  imagination  to  picture 
the  scene,  Sampson  arranging  the  preliminaries,  while  the 
old  man's  trembling  fingers  were  taking  off  his  homespun 
shirt. 

Judge  Stanley,  sick  at  heart,  had  walked  away.  Sparks 
was  modestly  in  the  background,  while  Sandy  and  Ben 
were  in  high  glee  over  whispered  jokes,  of  which  Frank 
was  evidently  the  subject, 


THE   STORMY   PETREL,  2^ 

But  there  was  a  look  in  ClaAton's  eye  as  he  stood  there 
with  arms  folded,  face  white  and  set,  every  nerve  and 
muscle  at  the  highest  tension  ;  there  was  something  in  his 
eye,  which  even  these  men  did  not  like  to  meet,  and  which 
kept  them  from  more  than  furtive  glances  at  his  motion- 
less figure. 

The  nearer  man  comes  to  the  brute,  the  more  readily 
does  he  quail  under  this  strange  power  of  the  human  eye. 

But  they  had  not  pictured  all  that  was  going  on  within 
that  barn. 

Frank  had  found  an  opportunity  in  the  thirty  seconds 
during  Ned's  appeal  to  Judge  Stanley  to  say  just  these 
words  to  the  constable  : 

"Sampson,  don't  be  hard  on  the  old  man.  He  is  in- 
nocent, and  those  scoundrels  know  it.  This  is  only  done 
to  make  7ne  sufifer.  Make  it  light  as  you  can,  there's  a 
good  fellow." 

There  was  no  time  for  a  word  of  reply ;  Frank  had 
gone,  and  Sampson  was  pondering  over  the  hurried, 
whispered  words  as  he  took  the  trembling  negro  to  the 
barn, 

"Now,  Ned,  off  with  yer  shirt,"  and  then,  in  a  whisper, 
"  and  every  time  I  bring  the  lash  down  on  this  ere  bag  o' 
wheat,  you  holler  like  you'd  take  the  roof  off." 

Stupefied  with  wonder,  Ned  never  moved.  "  Do  as  I 
tell  you,"  roared  Sampson,  and  then  in  a  whisper  :     "  Mr. 

Clayton  asked  me  to  make  it  light,  an  by I'll  do  it  if  it 

costs  me  my  office.  He  done  me  a  good  turn  last  year 
when  the  sheriff  was  goin  ter  sell  me  out,  and  I  ain't  a 
man  ter  forgit  such  er  kindness.  If  them  durned  fellers 
want  somebody  to  hurt  Frank  Clayton  over jyv/;- shoulders 
they've  come  to  the  wrong  place,  that's  all  there  is  about 
it ;  I  ain't  their  man  for  that  job. 

"  Now,  holler,  jest  as  loud  as  yer  can," — bringing  down 
the  lash  on  the  bag  ;  "  louder,  louder,  louder  !  There  now, 
kinder  faint  an  tired  out ;  now,  like  you  was  all  worn  out. 
There,  that'll  do."  And  then,  laying  the  lash  lightly 
thirty-nine  times  on  Ned's  broad  ebony  shoulders,  just  to 
keep  within  the  letter  of  the  law,  the  constable's  official 
conscience  was  appeased. 

"  Now,  put  on  yer  shirt,"  said  he,  panting  and  puffing 
from  the  exercise,  "  But,  for  the  Lord's  sake,  don't  look 
like  that.     Why,  you  must  pear  like  you  was  all  cut  up ; 


26  THE    STORMY   PETREL. 

SO  there,  that'll  do.  Now,  if  you  ever  let  this  git  out, 
I'll " 

The  awful  threat  was  not  finished,  for  they  were  out  in 
the  sunshine  again  and  in  full  view  of  the  group  awaiting 
them  with  such  diverse  feelings. 

Frank's  face  flushed,  and  he  looked  eagerly  at  his  ser- 
vant. The  crying  in  the  barn  was  so  well  done  he  felt 
afraid  his  appeal  had  done  no  good,  but  a  curious  twinkle 
in  the  eye  over  Ned's  old  handkerchief  reassured  him. 

They  rode  home,  much  of  the  way  in  silence,  Frank 
driving,  with  his  uncle  on  the  seat  beside  him,  and  Ned 
sitting  behind. 

"  The  poor  old  fellow  bore  it  very  well,"  said  the  judge 
at  last,  in  a  low  tone. 

"Yes,"  said  Frank,  drily,  "he  did  ;"  and  they  lapsed 
again  into  another  long  silence. 

Frank  was  thinking  unutterable  things.  These  events 
were  hastening  the  growth  of  thoughts  which  had  been 
long  germinating  in  his  mind. 

"Uncle,"  he  said  at  last,  "  what  can  be  done  to  pre- 
vent such  injustice  as  we  have  seen  to-day  ?  " 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  It's  a  hard  case,  but  the  law 
must  be  respected  and  enforced." 

"A  law,"  said  Frank,  impatiently,  "which  permits  such 
things  should  be  repealed.  Why  are  there  no  legal  en- 
actments to  protect  these  helpless  beings  from  such 
vicious  creatures  as  Sandy  Guiton  and  Ben  Baugh  .? " 

"  What  kind  of  a  law  would  you  enact  for  that  |uir- 
pose,  Frank  ?  "  the  old  gentleman  asked,  a  little  scornfully. 

"  Why,  I  would  make  them  competent  witnesses  in 
courts  of  justice,  for  one  thing." 

"And  so  they  are  now  as  against  a  negro." 

"  Well,  I  should  make  them  competent  witnesses 
against  white  as  well  as  black." 

"  But,  my  dear  boy,"  said  the  judge,  striving  to  be 
patient,  "don't  you  see  to  what  complications  that  would 
lead?  Don't  you  see  that  if  a  man's  slave  could  bring 
him  into  court  and  testify  against  him,  there  would  be 
continual  litigation  and  end  virtually  the  absolute  control 
of  the  slaves  by  the  master.''  It  would  be  recognizing  his 
rights  as  a  man,  and  would  be  an  entering  wedge  that 
would  end  in  the  utter  overthrow  of  slavery.  There  can 
be  no  half-hearted,  half-way  measures  in  this.     My  dear 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  27 

boy,  your  theories  are  impracticable,  and  however  pleas- 
ant it  may  be  for  you  to  indulge  in  them,  I  advise  you  by 
no  means,  give  expression  to  them  in  the  presence  of  any 
person  hereabouts.  Your  motives  will  be  misconstrued, 
and  get  you  into  trouble.  For  instance,  if  those  men  we 
have  seen  to-day,  even  though  they  had  no  interest 
directly  in  slavery,  were  to  hear  you  talk,  as  you  have  to 
me,  they  would  get  up  a  mob  and  run  you  out  of  the  State 
as  an  abolitionist." 

Frank  realized  they  were  drifting  into  the  endless 
mazes  of  argument  so  often  explored  before,  and  which 
lead  nowhere.  His  ideas  must  lead  to  action,  not  words. 
That  was  more  and  more  forcing  itself  into  recognition  in 
his  mind,  and  he  did  not  speak  again  except  of  matters 
about  which  he  felt  quite  indifferent. 

As  Ned  climbed  down  from  the  seat  behind,  Judge 
Stanley  put  his  hand  kindly  on  his  shoulder  and  slipping  a 
crisp  bank-note  in  to  his  hand,  said,  "  There  is  something 
to  buy  a  present  for  the  old  woman  and  the  children." 

"  Oh,  Massa,  I  can't — "  But  Frank  unceremoniously 
sent  him  off  with  his  scruples,  saying  to  him  as  he  went, 
in  an  undertone  :  "  Remember,  not  a  word." 

"  You  may  pen  on  me  for  dat  for  suah,"  said  Ned. 
"  I'll  neber  open  my  mouf  on  dat  pint." 

But  the  news  of  the  flogging  had  sped  swiftly  to  the 
plantation  and  there  was  awful  wailing  and  lamentation 
in  Ned's  cabin,  and  when  he  opened  the  door  his  wife 
said  :  "  Oh  !    My  pore  ole  man,  my  pore  ole  man." 

"Don't  cry,  honey,  I  aint  hurt  a  mite,"  said  Ned, 
soothingly. 

"You  ain't?"  said  she,  looking  at  him  with  incredulous 
eyes. 

"No,  not  a  mite.  Massa  Sampson  he  gib  me  de  lashes 
for  suah,  Liza,  but  de  good  Lord,  he  sent  a  angel  what 
kep  him  from  hurtin  me.  Ceptin  de  disgrace,"  said  he, 
with  a  quaver  in  his  voice,  ceptin  de  disgrace  !  "  and 
he  hung  his  head. 

"  Was  it  a  sure  enuf  angel,  Ned  ? "  said  she,  in  a 
scared  undertone.     "  Did  de  Lord  do  dat  for  true  .''  " 

"Yes,  for  true,"  and  Ned  nodded  solemnly. 

"  How  did  de  angel  look,  Ned  ? "  said  she,  in  awe- 
stricken  whisper. 

"  For  all  de  worl  jes  like  Massa  Frank,  honey." 


CHAPTER   V. 

Kate  had  returned  to  "Beechwood,"  and  the  radiance 
of  her  happy  face  had  iUuminated  every  corner  of  the 
solitary  old  house. 

"  How  different  everything  looks  since  you  came  back  !  " 
said  her  father.  ''I  declare,  Kate,  it  was  such  a  dismal 
place  without  you  I  really  considered  whether  we  had  not 
better  close  the  house  and  go  to  Louisville  for  the 
winter." 

'Kate  laughed  at  the  idea  of  anything  being  as  pleasant 
as  "Beechwood,"  in  winter  or  summer. 

"I  really  don't  know  how  I  should  have  stood  it,  if 
Frank  hadn't  helped  me  through,". 

"  Dear  Frank,"  said  Kate,  "how  good  it  was  of  him  to 
come  here.  But  then,  Frank  always  does  the  right  thing." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  the  judge,  laughing. 
"  He  is  a  splendid  fellow,  indeed,  an  extraordinary  fellow, 
Kate.  I  admire  and  love  the  boy,  but  he  is  erratic — very 
erratic  and  headstrong;  and  we  had  some  pretty  stormy 
times  while  you  were  gone." 

"  Did  you  really,  papa  ?  " 

"  Yes.  That  is,  he  expressed  himself  imprudently  on 
two  or  three  occasions,  and  I  felt  obliged  to  rebuke  him 
pretty  sharply.  You  know  he  took  an  aversion  to  Sparks, 
and  got  it  into  his  head  that  he  would  run  the  plantation 
alone,  and  I  found '■" 

"Oh,  Massa,"  said  Sam,  bursting  unceremoniously  into 
the  room  ;  then  recovering  himself — "Excuse,  Massa,  but 
dars  trouble  over  to  de  Glen  !  " 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  said  the  judge,  in  alarm. 

"  It's  about  Uncle  Ned,  sah.  De  boy  what  brought  de 
news  is  jist  outside.     Shall  I  call  him  in,  sah  ?  " 

"  Yes,  at  once  !  "  Then  turning  to  Kate — "Just  as  I 
told  you — Frank  is  in  Louisville,  and  now  there'll  be  the 
devil  to  pay,  and  no  one  to  look  after " 

At  that  moment  Sam  returned  with  the  ebony  messen- 
ger from  "  The  Glen." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  29 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ? "  said  Judge  Stanley,  a  little  fret- 
fully. 

The  boy  fumbled  with  his  cap,  while  he  scraped  his 
right  foot  backward  in  the  most  approved  fashion. 

"It's  about  Uncle  Ned,"  stammered  he. 

"Well,  I  heard  that  before.     What  about  him?" 

"  Why,  they've  done  cut  him  all  up,  sah." 

"  Who  .''     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"I  donno  who  dey  was,  sah,  but  four  men  comd  and 
took  him  outer  his  bed  last  night  and  carried  him  to  de 
woods  back  er  der  house.  Den  dey  fassened  a  corn-cob 
in  his  mouf," — the  boy  was  getting  warmed  up  with  the 
narrative  and  his  round  eyes  looked  as  if  they  were  about 
to  be  projected  from  his  head — "  and  dey  jes  cut  his  back 
all  ter  pieces,  and  den  dey  irow  salt  water  all  ober  him 
and  go  away  an  leab  him." 

"  Monstrous  !"  said  the  judge,  "  those  trends  ought  to 
be " 

"  He's  in  er  awful  bad  way,  no  mistake,  sah — wid  a 
great  gash  in  his  head,  too." 

"  Great  heavens  !  "  said  Kate,  trembling.  "  Papa,  what's 
to  be  done  ?  " 

"  Aunt  Liza  and  de  childen's  nigh  bout  crazy,"  went 
on  the  boy,  "  an  it  seems  like  nobody  knows  what  to  do 
fus." 

"  Dick,  send  at  once  for  Doctor  Barnes,  and  here — this 
message,"  said  he,  writing  on  a  slip  of  paper  with  the 
pencil  attached  to  his  watch-chain.  "  Send  this  to  the 
telegraph  office  instantly,  and  have  the  horse  harnessed 
for  me  to  go  to  The  Glen. 

"I  think  I'll  write  to  Frank,  too;  he'll  get  it  in  time, 
and  the  despatch  is  not  explicit  enough,"  and  the  old 
gentleman  sat  down  to  his  desk. 

"  Papa,  dear,"  said  his  daughter,  laying  her  hand  on  his 
shoulder,  "  I  am  going  with  you  to  The  Glen." 

He  nodded  and  went  on  with  his  letter,  while  Kate 
rang  the  bell  for  her  maid. 

In  an  instant  the  summons  was  answered  by  a  tall, 
olive-skinned  girl,  with  an  air  almost  patrician. 

"Do  you  want  me.  Miss  Kate?"  said  she,  with  the 
soft,  rich  intonation  of  that  latitude. 

"Yes,"  said  her  mistress.  "I'm  going  to  The  Glen  ; 
bring  my  wraps  and — wait — tell  Dick  to  fill  a  hamper  with 


30  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

things  for  Liza  and  the  children — a  bottle  of  brandy,  too," 
she  called,  in  a  louder  tone,  the  girl  being  swiftly  on  her 
way  to  obey  her  instructions. 

"  Oh,  how  terrible  !  "  and  she  paced  the  floor,  wringing 
her  hands  in  distress. 

Martha  returned  with  the  things,  and  stooping  to  put  the 
overshoes  on  her  mistress'  feet,  said  :  "It's  a  mighty  bad 
day.  Miss  Kate,  for  you  to  be  out.  I  brought  this  for  you 
to  wear  under  your  waterproof,"  said  she,  wrapping  a 
fur-lined  cloak  about  her  shoulders." 

"  There,  that'll  do,"  said  Kate,  impatiently. 

"  Martha,  tell  Mr,  Fletcher  when  he  comes,  that  I've 
gone  to  The  Glen  ;  and— don't  forget  to  see  that  the  fire 
burns  brightly  in  his  dressing-room." 

Martha  was  fastening  the  waterproof  at  the  neck  as  she 
said  this,  and  Kate  was  surprised  by  a  curiously  pained 
look  in  the  face  opposite  her,  as  a  flush  of  deep  red 
crept  under  the  olive  skin.  She  did  not  speak.  Kate 
looked  at  her,  puzzled  at  her  silence. 

"  Did  you  hear  me,  Martha  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Miss  Kate,  I  will  see  to  it ;  and  Sam  has 
the  hamper  in  the  carriage,"  said  she,  handing  her  mis- 
tress her  fur-lined  gloves. 

"  Papa,"  said  Kale,  as  they  were  driving  through  the 
dreary  fog  and  rain,  "  I'm  afraid  something  is  the  matter 
with  Martha." 

"  Why  ?  "  said  he,  absently. 

"I  don't  think  she's  happy." 

"  Nonsense." 

"  No,"  she  said,  very  positively,  "  she  is  in  trouble,  I'm 
sure." 

"  Some  falling  out  with  Dick,  I  suppose,"  said  he,  indif- 
ferently. 

"Yes,"  mused  Kate,  "that  is  it."  What  could  touch 
/icr  so  deeply  as  "falling  out"  with  Bernard.'  And  she 
thought  compassionately  of  her  maid's  unhappiness  from 
similar  cause  and  determined  to  help  her. 

A  dusky  crowd  was  hanging  around  Ned's  cabin,  which 
silently  drew  back  to  make  way  for  Judge  Stanley  and  his 
daughter. 

The  moans  they  heard  as  they  stood  on  the  porch  out- 
side, were  not  from  Ned.  He  was  still  enough,  not 
having  yet  come  back  to  consciousness  of  his  suffering. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  3 1 

But  poor  Liza  rocked  back  and  forth  in  piteous  anguish, 
which  made  her  almost  unconscious  of  the  presence  of 
Kate  and  her  father.  i, 

"  Oh,  my  pore  ole  man — de  Lord  dun  forgot  him  dis 
time.  If  he  could  sen  a  angel  one  time,  why  couldn  he 
anoder  ?  Dat's  what  I  can't  understan.  Pears  like  his 
arm  was  shorten  dat  he  couldn  sav  !  If  he  conhi  an  he 
didn't — what  sort  a  Lord  is  dat  ?  "  said  she,  in  a  kind  of 
passion  of  grief.  "  No,  Aunt  Jemima,  don't  you  hinder 
me.  If  I  tought  de  Lord  he  hear  dose  cries  and  looked 
on  and  wouldn  help  his  ole  faithful  serbant — I  wouldn 
love  him  ;  "  and  she  paced  the  floor,  gesticulating  wildly. 

"  No,  don  talk  to  me  bout  sech  a  Lord  as  dat,"  saitl 
she,  pushing  aside  her  would-be  comforters.  "  I'se 
gwinter  have  my  say,  I  is." 

Kate  could  think  of  nothing  comforting  to  say,  so  she 
wiped  her  own  tears  and  silently  took  the  things  out  of 
the  hamper.  This  suggested  the  best  thing  she  could 
have  done.  That  is,  to  mix  a  little  brandy  and  water  and 
sugar,  to  calm  the  poor  old  creature's  nerves. 

"  Tank  you.  Miss  Kate,"  said  she,  gratefully. 

Dr.  Barnes  found  nothing  serious  in  the  case,  unless 
the  concussion  should  give  trouble,  but  "  I  reckon  not," 
he  said,  with  a  facetious  glance  at  the  judge.  "  The  race 
is  pretty  well  protected  there,"  said  he,  tapping  the 
unconscious  Ned  on  the  skull.  "  He  is  suffering  now 
chiefly  from  nervous  shock."  He  did  all  he  could  to 
make  the  old  man  more  comfortable,  and  promised  to  call 
again  before  nig-ht. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  following  day  Kate  sat  before  the  mirror  in  dainty 
dressing  sacque.  The  hair  which  Martha  was  combing 
fell  in  rich,  waving,  auburn  masses,  which,  soon  as  released 
from  the  comb  in  Martha's  hand,  spread  out  as  if  electri- 
fied. 

They  had  been  talking  of  Ned. 

"It  seems  like  there  was  nothing  but  trouble,  Miss 
Kate,"  the  girl  said,  in  a  tone  of  wearied  hopelessness. 

Kate  looked  at  her  very  steadily  in  the  glass. 

"  Martha,"  said  she,  after  a  moment ;  "is  Dick  kind  to 
you  ?  " 

"Dick? — kind.''" — she  almost  gasped.  "Why,  Miss 
Kate,  I  think  Dick  would  die  for  me." 

"And  you  are  sure  you  have  no  trouble  with  him  ?  " 

"Oh,  no — no.  If  you  could  only  know  how  good  he  is 
to  me  !  "  Big  tears  gathered  in  her  eyes,  which  her  busy 
hands  let  fall  as  they  would. 

"  Well,  then,  Martha,  what  is  it  .'*  I  have  observed  ever 
since  I  came  home,  you  are  not  happy.'' 

"  Oh,  Miss  Kate,  Miss  Kate,"  said  the  girl,  dropping 
the  comb,  and  burying  her  face  in  both  hands,  "don't, 
don't  !  " 

Kate  was  shocked. 
-    "Why,  Martha,  what  is  it?     What  can  I  do  for  you?  " 
And  she  put  her  hand  kindly  on  the  girl's  shoulder. 

"  There's  nothing — nothing,"  said  she,  sobbing  hysteri- 
cally. "  Oh,  it  breaks  my  heart  to  have  you  so  good  to 
me  !  " 

"There,  there,"  said  Kate,  who  heard  Bernard's  step  on 
the  stairs.  "There,  I'll  do  my  own  hair — you  go  and  lie 
down,"  and  she  pushed  her  gently  toward  the  door.  As 
Bernard  entered,  he  looked  at  the  retreating  figure  of  the 
girl,  and  then,  swiftly,  at  Kate. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  now  ?  " 

The  tone  was  not  pleasant,  neither  was  the  frown  which 
accompanied  it.     But  Kate  perceived  neither, 


THE    STORMY    PETREL,  ;^^ 

"  Why,  I  do  not  know,  Bernard,  what  it  is.  Martha  does 
not  seem  happy — something  troubles  her.  She  was  so 
hght-hearted  before  she  married  Dicl<,  and  now " 

"  Will  you  spare  me  any  more  of  these  details,"  said  her 
husband,  in  a  not  very  engaging  voice.  "  For  Heaven's 
sake,  can  we  not  find  something  pleasanter  to  talk  of  than 
the  servants'  troubles  !  " 

"  Bernard,"  said  Kate,  shocked  and  surprised. 

"  Well,  dear,  I  can't  help  it.  It  bores  me — you  are  not 
vexed,  are  you  ?  "  said  he,  leaning  over  her  coaxingly, 

'"  No,"  said  she,  refusing  to  look  at  him.  "  I'm  not 
vexed,  but  I  am  disappointed." 

"  Well,  it's  a  little  too  much  to  expect  of  a  man,  you 
know,"  and,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  he  lazily  paced 
the  floor,  while  Kate  brushed  her  hair  in  silence. 

"  Last  night,  it  was  Uncle  Ned  :  you  could't  talk,  play 
billiards,  sing,  or  even  think  of  anything  but  Uncle 
Ned  ;  and  now  I  come  home,  and,  by  George,  it's  Mar- 
tha." 

Kate  said  not  a  word,  as  she  gathered  the  auburn  mass 
together  and  then  coiled  it  upon  the  top  of  her  stately 
head. 

"  By  Jove,  she's  handsome,"  Bernard  was  saying  to 
himself. 

Kate  furtively  glanced  at  her  husband  as  he  stood  at 
the  window,  his  profile  in  strong  relief  against  the  light. 
She  had  taken  great  delight  in  studying  that  profile;  but 
now,  somehow,  in  the  silence  that  had  fallen  between 
them,  its  perfect  lines  irritated  her. 

But  before  she  had  placed  the  high  shell  comb  at  the 
right  angle  in  her  hair,  the  old  feeling  had  asserted 
itself. 

What  was  she  doing  ?  Trouble  with  Bernard  !  The 
thought  was  insupportable. 

She  was  at  his  side  in  another  moment,  looking  wistfully 
into  his  face. 

"Bernard,  I  was  unreasonable,"  and  she  slipped  her 
hand  into  his. 

"Of  course,  dear,"  she  went  on,  "I  cannot  expect  you 
to  feel  as  I  do  about  these  servants.  Why,  I  have  loved 
Martha  all  my  life — we  played  together  in  the  nursery, 
and  then  grew  up  together,  and " 

Something  warned  her  that  she  was  borins:  him  again. 


34  THE    STORMY   PETREL. 

"  And,  Bernard,  you  must  be  patient  with  me  if  I  am 
hasty  sometimes.  It's  the  Lucas  blood,  that  you  think  so 
much  of,"  said  she,  smiling  archly.  "  We  are  all  so — 
papa,  Frank  and  I,  all  alike ;  but  we  get  over  it  in  a  mo- 
ment, unless  it's  a  real  injury,  you  know." 

"  Ah,  well,"  said  he,  "  I  suppose  we  must  have  our  lit- 
tle misunderstandings  sometimes,  like  other  people.  But 
we  will  avoid  many  of  these  if  you  will  give  up  expecting 
me  to  be  like  your  priggish  cousin  Frank." 

Kate  looked  hurt.     "  Fm  sorry  you  dislike  Frank  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  dislike  him.  But  we  go  different  ways, 
that's  all.     He  likes  this  sort  of  thing,  and  I  don't. 

*■  Now,  dear,  we  understand  each  other,  don't  we  ?  "  and 
he  drew  her  to  him  and  kissed  her. 

She  was  silent,  but  there  was  a  strange  misgiving  in  her 
heart.  What  if  they  did  not,  and  rw//^/ wczr/- understand 
each  other. 

The  evening  was  long  to  Kate.  Bernard  was  especially 
agreeable,  but  somehow  her  spirits  would  not  rally  ;  and 
finally,  when  her  father  and  husband  became  interested  in 
a  game  of  billiards,  she  slipped  quietly  up-stairs,  took  off 
her  dress,  braided  her  hair  in  two  long  strands  down  her 
back,  and  then,  in  soft  dressing-gown,  sat  in  the  flicker- 
ing light  of  the  open  fire.  She  was  fond  of  this,  and  in 
that  girlhood  she  was  fast  leaving  behind  her,  had  built 
many  castles  out  of  those  changing  lights  and  shadows. 
But  there  was  no  castle-building  to-night.  She  was  only 
trying  to  comprehend  the  strangeness  of  the  noiv.  A  veil 
seemed  to  be  dropping  from  life.  Could  it  be  that  its 
poetry  and  romance  would  vanish  .''  She  sat  long,  gazing 
silently,  and  in  differrent  ways  asking  over  the  same  ques- 
tion. 

She  started  at  hearing  Bernard's  step.  "  Alone, 
dearest  ?"  said  he.  "Kate,  I'm  afraid  you  think  I  was 
unsympathetic  to-day — I  am  not,  and  if  Martha " 

"  O  Bernard,  she  is  not  in  trouble ;  that  is,  it  was  all 
a  stupid  mistake  of  mine.  She  is  not  very  well,  that  is 
all." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  he,  "give  her  that,  it  will  make  her 
better,  or  else  you  buy  her  something  with  it.  You  know 
what  would  please  her." 

Kate  flushed  rosy  red  v/ith  pleasure  and  surprise  as  she 
saw  a  ten-dollar  biil  lying  in  her  lap. 


THE    STORIMY    PETREL.  35 

"My  darling,  how  kind  you  are  !  "  said  she,  impulsively. 

"Oh,  there  are  worse  fellows  than  I,"  said  he,  laughing, 
as  he  replaced  his  pocket-book. 

She  laid  her  head  on  his  breast.  How  unjust  she  had 
been  !  how  exacting  !  how  absurd  !  and  he — was  so  gener- 
ous, so  tender ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Upon  receiving  the  dispatch,  Frank  immediatel)'  ar- 
ranged to  return,  and  before  the  steamer  started  that 
night,  his  uncle's  letter  had  given  the  details  of  the  affair. 

Too  excited  to  sleep,  he  paced  the  deck  far  into  the 
night,  his  niind  revolving  plans  of  swift  vengeance  upon 
the  men  whom  he  suspected  of  being  tlie  perpetrators  of 
this  outrage,  whom  he  correctl}'  surmised  had  discovered 
the  thwarting  of  their  first  attempt.  It  was  aimed,  as 
he  well  knew,  not  at  Ned,  but  himself. 

"  But  what  good  will  it  do  ?  "  he  asked  himself,  despair- 
ingly. "What  security  is  there  against  future  and  end- 
less troubles  of  a  similar  sort,  in  a  State  where  the  laws 
are  framed,  not  to  protect  the  helpless,  but  rather  to 
secure  immunity  for  the  strong  and  vicious  !  " 

The  problem  to  be  solved  was.  How  should  he  admin- 
ister justice  to  these  human  beings  committed  to  his  care 
by  his  grandfather's  will  !  He  had  been  powerless  to  do 
it  thus  far,  even  with  the  aid  of  Judge  Stanley. 

"But  it  must  be  done,"  said  he,  setting  his  teeth  to- 
gether with  a  sort  of  fierce  resolve.  "  By  Heaven  !  if 
justice  cannot  be  found  for  them  7uithin  the  system,  why, 
by  all  that's  sacred,  I'll  put  them  outside  of  it.  It's  got 
to  come  to  that,''  said  he,  more  quietly  ;  "  I  see  there  is 
ho  other  way  out  of  it." 

The  moon  rose  above  the  hills,  and  a  pathway  of  glory 
stretched  before  him  through  the  dark  waters  of  the  Ohio. 
To  his  excited  fancy  it  seemed  a  type.  Here  was  tiie 
path  of  duty  illumined  by  divine  light,  which  seemed  to 
cleave  its  way  straight  through  the  darkness  which  en- 
vironed him.  He  recalled  his  mother — his  beautiful, 
sainted  mother — and  could  hear  her  voice,  as  of  old,  urg- 
ing the  simple,  yet  ah  !  so  difficult  precept  :  "My  son,  do 
unto  others  as  you  would  have  others  do  unto  you." 

And  if  ministering  angels  do  visit  the  earth,  there  was 
an  angel  who  imparled  strength  and  courage  to  a  human 
soul  that  night.     He  felt  the  soft  touch  of  a  hand  upon 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  37 

his  brow,  and  sprang  to  his  feet.  Was  he  dreaming } 
The  moon  had  disappeared  ;  the  rosy  hght  of  dawn  was 
in  the  east,  and  the  cool  morning  air  gave  freshness  and 
vigor  to  the  duties  of  the  day.  The  night's  vigil,  though 
it  left  no  trace  of  fatigue,  had  been  an  era  in  the  life  of 
Clayton,  and  during  its  anxious  hours  he  had  passed  from 
youth  to  manhood.  His  resolve  was  taken  ;  there  was 
no  more  uncertainty  as  to  what  was  to  be  done. 

His  carriage  was  awaiting  him  at  the  landing  and  took 
him  at  once  to  his  own  home,  where  his  whole  thought  for 
some  hours  was  given  to  consoling  his  old  servant,  and, 
so  far  as  he  could,  bringing  comfort  and  cheer  into  Ned's 
forlorn  cabin. 

Not  till  evening  did  he  set  his  face  toward  '"  Beech- 
wood,"  and  then,  reining  in  Stella's  impatience,  he  tried 
to  prolong  the  ride  thither.  The  approaching  interview 
with  his  uncle  must  be  a  painful,  and  probably  would  be  a 
stormy  one.  He  would  have  preferred  never  to  array 
himself  in  opposition  to  his  more  than  father — but  the 
time  had  come  sooner  than  he  intended  ;  the  hands  on  the 
dial  could  not  be  set  back  now. 

They  had  just  finished  dinner  when  he  entered.  Judge 
Stanley  and  his  son-in-law  had  lighted  their  cigars.  Kate 
knew  well  the  ring  of  Stella's  hoofs  on  the  gravel  road, 
and  had  flown  to  meet  him  at  the  door,  with  the  old-time 
welcome,  which  quite  atoned  for  Bernard's  listless  greet- 
ing. 

"  Well,  Frank,"  said  his  uncle,  we've  had  a  pretty  bad 
time  here  since  you  went  away.     I  wrote  you  most  of — " 

Bernard,  looking  terribly  bored,  said  in  an  aside  to 
Kate,  '-  Let's  have  some  music,  dear ;  your  father  and 
cousin  have  so  much  to  discuss."  So  Frank  and  his 
uncle  were  left  alone. 

The  butler,  who  went  in  later,  to  remove  the  cloth,  was 
told  impatiently  by  his  master  to  leave  things  as  they  were, 
he  could  not  be  disturbed  ;  and  the  rise  and  fall  of  voices 
within  the  closed  doors  gave  indication  of  an  interview 
more  than  usually  grave  and  important. 

Kate  was  puzzled  and  anxious,  for  it  sounded  at  times 
almost  as  if  they  were  angry.  But  that  i:o///i/  not  be  ! — 
and  she  waited,  restrained  by  an  indefinable  feeling  from 
confiding  her  disquietude  to  her  husband. 

Ten  o'clock — and,  at  last — eleven  o'clock  ;  and  still  the 


38  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

doors  remained  closed  and  ihe  voices  were  no  less  earnest 
and  continuous. 

"Your  cousin  and  the  old  gentleman  are  holding  a  long 
session,"  said  Bernard,  lazily  stretching.  "Don't  you 
wait,  dear;  if  anyone  need  do  so,  I  will." 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,"  said  Kate  ;  "  it's  not  necessar\-  for 
anyone  to  sit  up;  Frank  is  one  of  us,  you  know.'' 

But  there  could  be  no  sleep  for  Kale,  as  long  as  she 
heard  the  distant  murmur  of  voices  down-stairs.  It  must 
be  something  very  serious — and  what  could  it  be? 
Twelve  o'clock — one — and,  at  last,  two!  Then  the  voices 
grew  more  distinct,  although  speaking  very  quietly  now,  as 
the  dining-room  door  opened.      She  heard  Frank  say : 

"Good-night,  uncle."  Then  the  front  door  closed 
heavily. 

"Has  there  been  some  misfortune.''  some  trouble  of 
which  I  do  not  know.?  Is  Frank  in  difficulty?"  And 
she  asked  herself  these  fruitless  questions  till  the  clatter 
of  Stella's  hoofs  was  lost  in  the  distance.  Then,  the 
tension  removed,  she  dropped  into  the  restful  sleep  of 
youth  and  health. 

There  was  little  conversation  at  breakfast  next  morning. 
Judge  Stanley  looked  careworn  and  aged,  as  he  silently 
took  his  coffee  and  buttered  toast.  It  was  not  until  Ber- 
nard had  gone,  and  the  old  gentleman  had  settled  into  his 
easy-chair,  with  his  newspaper,  that  Kate  ventured  to 
broach  the  subject  uppermost  in  her  mind. 

"  Papa,  dear,  you  were  up  late  last  night ;  I  hope  Frank 
is  not  in  any  trouble." 

"  Kate,"  said  he,  laying  down  his  paper,  "your  cousin  is 
a  fool ;  he  is  going  to  free  his  negroes." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  it's  nothing  worse  than  that,"  she  said, 
with  an  expression  of  relief. 

"Nothing  worse,"  said  he,  vehemently,  "  nothing  worse 
than  committing  such  an  act  of  folly  ?  I  hope_)w//  are  not 
going  to  uphold  him.''  He  seemed  almost  angry  with 
lier. 

"  Why,  no  ;  not  exactly  that,  papa,"  said  she  ;  "  but  if  he 
thinks  it  his  duty,  I  must  say  I  think  it  is  heroic." 

"  Well,  /  think  it  is  madness  to  throw  away  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars  on  a  piece  of  mistaken  philanthropy.  Why,  it 
is  an  act  of  cruelty  to  turn  those  negroes  adrift.  What 
do  they  know  al:)Out  earning  a  living  ?     They  will  die  off 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  39 

like  sheep.  J^ut,  I've  nothing  more  to  say  about  it  ;  lie 
thinks  he  knows  better  than  1  ;  now  let  him  go  and  throw 
away  his  inheritance,  let  him  pull  down  his  grandfather's 
house  about  his  head  if  he  wants  to — I  shall  say  nothing 
more.  He  is  of  age  and  has  a  right  to  do  what  he  will 
with  his  own.  I've  done  my  duty  in  pointing  out  the 
dangers  and  folly  of  this  course  ;  now  if  he  persists — as 
he  will — I  shall  acquiesce  without  another  word.  But 
don't  talk  to  me  of  its  being  //tvwV,"  he  said,  as  he 
returned  to  his  paper,  which  Kate  well  knew  he  was  in  no 
mood  to  read. 

PerhajDS  her  father  was  right  in  his  view  of  the  unfitness 
of  the  negroes  to  take  care  of  themselves ;  but  she  was 
none  the  less  strongly  impressed  with  Frank's  fidelity  to 
his  ideals,  and,  so  far  from  striving  to  make  him  waver, 
she  would  have  strengthened  him  in  his  resolution.  All 
day  her  thoughts  dwelt  upon  these  things,  feeling  instinc- 
tively the  while  that  she  could  not  speak  to  Bernard  about 
it  and  invite  the  scornful  comment  which  she  was  sure 
would  follow. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  Few  clays  later  there  were  assembled  in  the  old 
librar)'  at  "  The  Glen  '  one  morning  four  men,  seated  round 
a  large  oaken  table,  with  its  quaintly  carved  legs  and 
mouldings  in  keeping  with  the  bookcases  which  lined  the 
walls,  containing  richly  bound  volumes  and  rare  old  books, 
which  had  been  the  pride  of  Colonel  Lucas,  who  had 
bequeathed  these  treasures  to  his  grandson. 

One  of  the  persons  at  the  table  was  a  heavily  built 
man,  with  an  intellectual  head,  slightly  bald,  and  with  an 
air  of  authority,  which  plainly  said  :  "  This  must  be  so, 
because  I  say  it."  He  stood  at  one  end  of  the  table, 
resting  his  hand  upon  an  elaborately  prepared  legal 
document,  and  said  : 

"  You  see.  Judge  Stanley,  the  will  of  Colonel  Lucas 
])rovides  that  if  his  grandson,  Frank  Clayton,  shall  desire 
to  dispose  of  the  estate,  he  shall  first  offer  it  to  his  cousin. 
Kate  Stanley,  or  to  her  father  for  her." 

"Mr.  Blackstone,"  said  the  judge,  "he  has  complied 
with  that  clause  in  full." 

"  Pardon  me.  Judge.  I  believe  not  in  the  spirit  nor  yet 
in  the  letter  of  the  clause;  for  you  will  observe,  in  everv 
case,  reference  is  made  to  this  property  as  a  whole,  and 
the  negroes  are  enumerated  as  part  and  parcel  of  the 
estate  so  bequeathed  and  provided  for  in  the  clause  as  an 
entirety.  Evidently,  Colonel  Lucas  did  not  intend  to  have 
the  estate  divided  up  into  parcels,  but  to  be  kept  intact 
and  in  the  family.  It  would  be  a  sacrilege  to  allow  this 
young  visionary  to  thwart  so  noble  a  purpose  ;  and  if  you 
take  our  view  of  the  case,  and  refuse  to  buy  except  he 
conform  to  this  view,  mark  my  word,  the  money  consider- 
ation will  bring  him  round." 

"No,"  said  Judge  Stanley.  "He  will  find  another  pur- 
chaser for  The  Glen,  and  hold  that  the  conditions  of  the 
will  have  been  complied  with  ,  and  besides,  I  shall  not  be 
a  i^artv  to  such  a  forced  construction  of  the  will.  He 
refuses  to  sell  either  the  library  here  or  the  family  pictures, 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  4I 

which  were  a  part  of  his  inheritance.  As  well  insist  on 
his  selling  these  as  any  other  particular  portion."' 

"And  so  I  should,  your  honor,"  resumed  Mr.  Black- 
stone.  "  The  estate  should  be  kept  intact ;  and  if  you  will 
allow  my  client,  Captain  Fletcher,  and  his  son  Bernard 
here,  to  arrange  this  conveyance  with  my  help,  I  am  sure 
this  instrument,"  holding  up  the  voluminous  document, 
'■  will  make  a  sure  bind." 

"Mr.  Blackstone  is  right,"  said  Captain  Fletcher,  as  he 
rose  from  his  seat  and  approached  Judge  Stanley,  who  sat 
in  deep  thought.  "  Mr.  Clayton  is  not  the  man  to  oppose 
our  united  opinions  and  demands,  if  you  support  our 
views." 

"  I,  for  one,"  said  Bernard,  "  am  not  in  favor  of  allow- 
ing him  to  carry  these  slaves  away  for  any  such  purpose 
as  he  has  avowed  ;  and  if  he  will  not  listen  to  reason,  he 
must  yield  to  force,  and  abandon  the  wild  scheme." 

"  If  you  knew  Frank  as  I  do,^'  said  the  judge,  looking 
rather  contemptuously  at  his  son-in-law,  "  you  would  not 
expect  to  control  him,  by  subterfuge  nor  yet  by  force. 
He  is  a  determined,  brave,  clear-headed  fellow.  I  don't 
approve  of  this  business — far  from  it — but  I  will  say  this 
nuich  for  him,  if " 

What  more  he  might  have  said,  we  know  not,  for  at 
that  moment  his  nephew,  accompanied  by  Kate,  entered 
the  apartment.  Frank  apol()gized  for  his  delay  in  appear- 
ing ;  while  Kate,  furtively  reading  the  lines  in  her  hus- 
band's face,  moved  to  his  side  and  rested  her  hand  upon 
his  arm.  She  was  uncomfortably  conscious  of  an  impend- 
ing storm,  which  she  meant,  if  possible,  to  avert. 

Mr.  Blackstone,  in  pompous,  consequential  fashion,  now 
called  attention  to  the  business  of  executing  the  papers, 
transferring  the  estate  to  Kate  Fletcher  ;  and  then,  step- 
ping up  to  Clayton  and  handing  him  a  carefully  prepared 
document,  said  : 

''  Here,  Mr.  Clayton,  is  a  deed,  prepared  by  myself  in 
strict  compliance  with  the  provisions  of  Colonel  Lucas' 
will ;  and  I  will  ask  vou  to  be  so  kind  as  to  examine  it." 

Clayton  took  the  paper  from  the  lawyer  witliout  com- 
ment. Running  his  eve  down  the  first  page,  he  caught 
the  name  of  "  Uncle  Ned."  Then  followed  an  inventory 
of  all  the  negroes,  horses,  cattle  and  stock  of  various 
kinds  ;  and  as  he  read,  the  hot  blood  surged  to  his  cheeks 


42  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

and  temples.  He  repressed  his  heart,  which  had  come 
unbidden  into  his  throat,  and  cahned  its  wild  beatings. 

Kate  watched  him  as  he  read,  and  observed  the  strug- 
gle with  secret  sympathy,  but  dared  not  leave  her  hus- 
band's side. 

A  look  of  ominous  determination  was  creeping  over 
Frank's  face,  which  was  now  quite  pallid  and  set. 
There  was  a  moment's  pause,  all  eyes  fixed  upon  him,  as 
they  waited  for  him  to  speak;  then,  looking  Mr.  Black- 
stone  steadily  in  the  face,  he  tore  the  paper  from  end  to 
end  and  then  into  shreds,  saying  calmly  as  he  did  so: 
"  Uncle  Stanley,  where  is  the  deed  we  prepared  yester- 
day,.'' " 

Judge  Stanley  turned  from  the  window  just  in  time  to 
interpose.  Mr.  Blackstone  had  fairly  bounded  toward 
Clayton,  in  order  to  save  his  pet  conveyance,  saying, 
"  How  dare  you  destroy  my  paper,  sir  ? " 

Bernard,  with  clinched  fist,  tore  away  from  his  almost 
frantic  wife  to  second  Blackstone  in  his  attack  on  Clay- 
ton. Judge  Stanley's  tall  form  stood  between  them  in  a 
moment.  "  Gentlemen,  you  forget  yourselves,  Bernard, 
I  am  astonished  at  you,"  he  said,  turning  sharply  upon 
his  son-in-law. 

Clayton  stood  calmly  looking  on.  "I  suppose  you 
will  be  making  out  a  bill  of  sale  of  my  soul  next/'  he 
said,  "  and  expect  me  to  submit  to  its  being  retained  by 
you  as  though  I  had  thought  of  such  a  sale.  Now,  Mr. 
Blackstone,  if  you  want  your  papers  to  be  respected  by 
me,  keep  my  name  out  of  all  such  nefarious  transactions. 
I  know  my  grandfather's  will  better  than  you  or  your 
client,"  glancing  toward  Bernard,  who  was  standing  by 
tlie  side  of  his  wife. 

At  this  point  Judge  Stanley  handed  to  Clayton  the 
deed  he  had  prepared  and  for  which  his  nephew  had 
asked. 

"Here,  Kate,"  said  Frank,  "you  and  I  are  the  two 
interested  parties  in  this  transaction.  Look  at  this  deed, 
and  see  if  it  suits  you.  If  not,  then  I  will  find  a  pur- 
chaser whom  it  does." 

Bernard's  eyes  were  fastened  upon  his  wife,  as  she, 
with  great  dignity  and  deliberation,  took  the  deed  and 
read  it  through.  What  would  she  say  ?  The  issue  all 
rested    upon    her    now.     Having    finished    reading    the 


THE    STOR.MV    PETREL.  43 

paper,  she  returned  it,  with  a  quiet  smile,  and  a  look  of 
determination  not  unlil^e  her  cousin's. 

"I  see  no  objection  to  that,  none  whatever."  Her 
eyes  kindled,  and  a  flush  crept  up  into  her  cheek  as  she 
added,  taking  Frank's  hand  :  "  If  3'ou  desire  to  free  your 
slaves,  if  you  feel  it  to  be  your  duty  to  do  so,  I  shall  not 
interpose  one  technicality  to  prevent  it ;  it  would  be  most 
ungenerous  and  unfair.  You  have  my  best  wishes  in  the 
fulfilment  of  your  purpose." 

It  was  bravely  said.  Judge  Stanley's  eyes  looked 
very  dim  as  they  rested  upon  his  daughter,  but  they  held 
admiration  as  well  as  tears.  There  was  nothing  more  to 
be  done,  Kate  and  Frank,  the  two  contracting  parties, 
were  fully  in  accord.  So  the  battle  was  lost,  and  it  only 
remained  for  the  various  actors  in  the  scene  to  retire 
with  such  grace  as  they  could  command. 

Without  one  word  to  his  wife,  Bernard  Fletcher  strode 
out  of  the  room,  muttering  something  through  his  closed 
teeth  which  sounded  very  much  like  an  oath ;  but  of 
course,  that  could  not  be — for  was  he  not  a  gentleman, 
with  the  most  chivalric  blood  in  Kentucky  flowing  in 
azure  stream  through  his  veins  ? 

He  and  his  lawyer  mounted  their  horses  and  rode 
away,  and  their  discourse  was  known  only  to  themselves. 

Frank  Clayton  had  a  tremendous  task  before  him,  but 
he  addressed  himself  to  it  wiih  an  intensity  of  purpose 
which  swept  away  all  obstacles.  Sparks,  with  his  miser- 
able company  of  followers,  was  doing  all  in  his  power  to 
thwart  and  overthrow  his  plans.  The  laws  of  the  State 
made  it  impracticable  for  the  freed  slaves  to  remain 
within  its  borders,  and  the  removal  of  the  little  band, 
furthermore,  had  to  be  accomplished  with  the  utmost 
secrecy  and  even  diplomacy.  But  it  was  done  ;  and  the 
new  year  dawned  upon  the  colony  of  dusky  freedmen, 
settled  in  Illinois,  each  family  in  its  own  comfortable 
cabin,  in  all  the  dignity  of  proprietorship,  their  bene- 
factor having  given  to  each,  as  a  New  Year's  gift,  manu- 
mission papers  and  the  deed  of  a  farm.  The  details  of 
the  scheme  were  carefully  worked  out,  and  Frank  spared 
no  pains  in  trying  to  make  them  understand  the  responsi- 
bilities of  their  new  position  and  to  stimulate  them  to  their 
hifrhest  and  best  endeavor. 


44  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

The  last  week  of  the  old  year  was  a  wonderful  holiday 
week,  and  enthusiasm  ran  high  in  the  new  colony.  There 
was  feasting  and  singing  and  dancing ;  Ned  laughed  and 
cried  at  the  same  time,  and  Eliza  would  have  knelt 
at  the  feet  of  the  deliverer  if  he  would  have  let  her, 
as  she  poured  out  her  gratitude.  "  O  Marsa  Frank,  de 
Lor  bress  you  for  takin  my  ol  man  to  saf  place  whar 
dem  wicked  men  can't  fin  im.  Honey,  you  do  grow  mo 
and  mo  like  yo  modder,  Miss  Fannie,  der  sainted  young 
Missus,  when  she  cum  home  from  de  big  city  wid  de 
clearest  little  baby  boy.  Now  you's  dat  same  pickanniny, 
an  I  spose  yer  done  forgot  all  bout  it.  When  you  got 
bigger,  Marsa  Lucas,  your  grampa,  would  take  de  ol  hos 
and  put  the  saddle  an  bridle  on,  den  to  see  dat  little 
spec  o  a  boy  what  was  one  ob  dese  days  to  grow  up  to 
be  such  a  fin  hansom  man — I  can  see  yer  now,  wid  de 
white  fedder  in  yer  hat,  and  wid  top  boots  on,  whip  in  yer 
han  an  ol  Marsa  Lucas  put  his  little  man  on  de  hos 
and  gib  yer  de  reins  all  to  yersef,  I  kin  see  de  proud 
blood  ob  de  Lucasses  mount  up  in  de  cheeks  as  you  make 
de  ol  hos  go  under  de  trees  an  roun  de  yard  and  de 
orchard,  an  finly,  you  brung  im  up  jis  under  de  big 
apple  tree,  when  you  pull  hard  on  dem  reins,  and  say 
'  who;'  and  dar  you  was  all  mixed  up  wid  de  apple  blos- 
soms. De  boy  an'  de  bees  after  de  honey  in  de  blossoms, 
an  I  clare  to  you,  Marsa  Frank,  an  no  mistake,  it  was  de 
putties  pictur  you  eber  coud  see.  Ole  Mars  Lucas,  jis 
call  de  young  missus  ter  see  de  young  man  an  de  hos  an 
de  blossoms,  all  so  mixed  till  yer  could  hardly  tell  which 
was  toder.  Marsa  Frank,  I'd  jus  like  a  big  picture  ob 
dat  in  a  big  frame,  and  set  an  mire  it  all  day  long." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

There  was  one  person  at  "Beechwood"  to  whom 
Frank's  absence  brought  unmixed  satisfaction.  Mordecai 
no  longer  sat  at  Bernard  Fletcher's  gate.  "  Confound  his 
impudence,"  he  said,  grinding  his  teeth,  "I  wish  it  was 
the  South  Sea  Islands,  instead  of  Illinois,  and  with  six 
feet  of  solid  earth  over  him,  too." 

Bernard  realized,  fully,  the  unpleasant  impression  his 
conduct  had  left  at  that  ill-starred  conference  in  the 
library,  and  would  have  given  a  good  deal  to  have  effaced 
it,  and  to  have  felt  entirely  reinstated  in  Kate's  and  her 
father's  esteem.  He  knew  well  how  to  charm,  and  made 
it  his  study  during  the  ensuing  months  to  try  and  make  his 
wife  in  love  with  him  afresh,  and  to  knit  up  anew  the  tie 
he  had  so  nearly  sundered  between  her  father  and  him- 
self. 

A  great  peace  and  happiness  came  into  Kate's  heart. 
She  began  to  feel  an  absolute  trust,  and  a  sense  of  secu- 
rity which  had  been  lacking  in  the  first  months  of  her 
marriage. 

As  the  winter  advanced,  she  was  far  from  well ;  but  as 
Dr.  Barnes  assured  them  there  was  no  cause  for  uneasi- 
ness, the  physical  tnalaise,  so  new  and  strange,  became 
almost  a  happiness,  so  strangely  did  it  bring  out  the 
wonderful  tenderness  of  her  husband. 

At  last  there  came  a  day  when  Dr.  Barnes'  carriage 
stood  all  the  day,  and  far  into  the  night,  in  front  of  the 
house  at  "Beechwood,"  the  servants  going  about  on  their 
errands  silently  and  swiftly  and  with  scared  faces.  The 
gloom  of  a  frightful  uncertainty  hung  oxer  the  house. 
Would  it  be  life  or  death  ? 

"  My  God,  how  could  I  bear  it } "  asked  her  father, 
when  he  was  told  of  the  possible  event  of  Kate's  death  ; 
and  something  like  a  muttered  prayer  came  from  Bernard's 
white  lips,  as  he  paced  the  hall  outside  of  his  wife's 
door.  If  she  could  only  be  spared,  what  would  he  not 
do   to   make   her   future  happy.     Poor,  shallow,  sterile. 


46  THE   STORMY   PETREL, 

though  his  nature  was,  he  loved  her,  and   this  desperate  1 
crisis  revealed  to  him  how  much.  / 

But  God  was  merciful,  and  an  hour  later  Judge  Stanley's 
grateful  heart  was  full  as  he  looked  down  upon  a  soft 
little  package  which  he  was  told  was  his  grandchild. 

The  strain  of  anxiety  being  over,  Bernard  was  himself 
again.  "Pshaw!"  he  said,  impatiently,  "a  girl;  only  a 
girl!" 

The  convalescence  was  slow,  but  Kate  felt  as  if  she 
could  have  had  it  last  forever,  so  delicious  was  it  to  lie 
and  watch  that  marvel  of  Nature's  delicate  handiwork — 
her  little  girl.  She  was  denied  the  privilege  of  nourishing 
her  child  ;  but  most  fortunately,  Martha's  baby  being  only 
a  few  weeks  older  than  hers,  she  was  enabled  to  peiform 
that  office  in  Kate's  stead,  and  the  young  mother  would 
lie  and  watch  in  a  kind  of  rapture  the  dressing  and  the 
undressing,  the  warming  and  the  comforting  of  her  darling. 

"Isn't  she  a  beauty,  Martha?" 

"  Deed  she  is,  Miss  Kate,"  answered  the  mellow 
voice  of  the  maid. 

"  Is  your  little  girl  pretty  ?  " 

"Yes,  Miss;  /think  so."  But  Martha  was  too  busy 
adjusting  the  little  Katie's  wraps  to  look  up. 

"  Martha,  you  must  bring  her  for  me  to  see  her," 
persisted  Katie. 

Martha's  face  wore  a  very  strange  expression  as  she 
suddenly  rose,  saying  as  she  did  so  :  "  Miss  Kate,  you 
mustn't  forget  the  doctor's  orders  ;  no  talkin',  you  know. 
Miss  Kate.  "  And  laying  the  sleeping  child  by  its  mother, 
she  found  plenty  to  do  in  folding  and  putting  away  dainty 
little  bits  of  lace-trimmed  garments. 


CHAPTER  X. 

About  a  fortnight  later,  Judge  Stanley  sat  in  his 
library  reading  a  letter  just  received  from  his  nephew 
Frank,  when  he  was  startled  by  a  message  from  Kate  that 
she  wished  to  see  him.  There  was  something  in  the  tone 
of  the  message,  or  perhaps  it  was  a  vague  premonition  of 
evil,  that  made  him  go  towards  Kate's  room  with  strange 
foreboding.  After  the  lapse  of  a  half-hour  or  more,  the 
old  gentleman,  very  pale,  and  looking  as  if  he  had  received 
a  blow,  came  out  of  his  daughter's  room.  He  ordered  a 
servant  to  go  at  once  for  Dr.  Barnes ;  then  returned  and 
the  door  was  once  more  closed  upon  father  and  child. 

When  Dr.  Barnes's  carriage  drove  up  the  gravel  road  to 
the  house,  Judge  Stanley  went  down  and  met  him  at  the 
door.  Drawing  him  at  once  into  the  library  and  closing 
the  door,  he  said,  in  a  broken  voice  : 

"Doctor,  we  are  in  trouble,  great  trouble  :  that  scoun- 
drel Bernard  will  break  my  child's  heart  before  he  gets 
through." 

"  Why,  my  dear  old  friend,  what  is  it  ?  What  has  hap- 
pened." 

"Oh,  there's  no  time  to  tell  you  now;  go  up  and  see 
Kate,  and  give  her  something  sedative.  She  has  had  a 
shock,  a  terrible  shock,  and  shC'  feels  that  there  is 
nothing  to  live  for,  now  that  she  has  lost  trust  in  her  hus- 
band. You  will  see  how  it  is  ;  she  scarcely  knows  what 
she  is  saying,,  poor  thing." 

The  doctor  went  up-stairs,  and  Judge  Stanley,  with 
hands  clasped  behind  him  and  head  bent,  paced  back  anc 
forth,  trying  to  see  the  best  way  out  of  this  for  all  con- 
cerned. 

Martha  must  go — yes,  that  is  settled — she  and  her  child 
must  go.  Kate  demanded  that,  and  it  must  be  done. 
Should  lie  send  her  to  Frank's  colony  ?  or  where  ?  Give 
her  her  freedom  as  a  reward  for  her  conduct  ?  No  ;  that 
would  scarcely  do.  And  yet  he  had  a  conviction  that  she 
was  a  good  girl,  after  all,     "  More  sinned  against  than 


48  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

sinning,"  said  he,  nodding  his  head,  "  More  sinned 
against  than  sinning,"  he  said  again,  even  more  positively 
than  before.     "  I'd  stake  a  great  deal  on  that." 

At  this  moment  the  doctor  returned.  Looking  at  him 
anxiously,  the  judge  said  :     ''  Well,  how  is  she  ?  " 

"  Oh,  very  quiet;  I  have  given  her  a  soothing  powder, 
and  I  think  she'll  get  through  the  night  comfortably.  But, 
by  Jove,  it  is  a  shame  !  I'd  like  to  wring  that  man's 
neck  !     I'd " 

"  Well,  he  is  her  husband,  and  she  is  my  child,  and 
we've  got  to  make  it  as  smooth  and  easy  for  her  as  we 
can.  The  girl  must  go  awa}',  that's  clear;  she  and  her 
child  must  go  somewhere,  and  at  once." 

"  I  have  it,"  said  the  doctor  ;  "  just  the  very  thing.  My 
sister-in-law,  in  Louisville,  has  been  a  long  time  looking 
for  just  such  a  maid  as  Martha.  Now,  let  me  suggest 
that,  as  in  law  you  are  her  real  owner,  you  allow  Kate  to 
execute  the  manumission  papers,  and  you  can  make  a  bill- 
of-sale  to  my  sister.  With  these,  we  can  send  Martha  and 
her  child  to  Louisville.  The  free  papers  can  be  destroyed 
and  the  name  left  blank  in  the  bill-of-sale,  to  be  filled  in 
after  my  sister  consents  to  the  purchase,  as  I  have  no 
doubt  she  will.  Harry  Barnes,  her  son,  will  stop  to  see 
me  on  his  way  home  from  New  Orleans.  I  expect  him 
dail}',  and  he  can  take  the  mother  and  child  and  deliver 
them  safely  to  his  mother." 

Dr.  Barnes'  suggestions  were  adopted,  and  the  papers 
were  made  accordingly. 


CHAPTER  XL 

On  a  beautiful  afternoon  in  June,  as  the  magnificent 
steamer  "Aleck  Scott  "was  cutting  the  bright  waters  of 
the  Ohio  River,  making  good  speed  against  a  swift  current, 
two  men  were  sitting  on  the  hurricane  deck  smoking  and 
talking  of  the  events  of  the  trip  thus  far  from  New 
Orleans.  One,  a  young  man  of  about  twenty-five,  with 
dark  hair  and  eyes,  a  clean-shaven  face,  except  the  con- 
spicuous mustache.  He  evidently  belonged  to  some  one 
of  the  professions,  and  was,  although  young,  quite  a  man 
of  the  world. 

His  companion,  who  was  somewhat  his  senior,  wore  a 
large  brilliant  in  his  scarlet  necktie.  He  was  regretting 
with  loud  voice  the  approach  to  Lucaston,  where  they 
must  separate,  and  said  : 

"Come,  Barnes,  make  the  trip  to  Louisville  with  us,  my 
boy.     The  old  uncle  will  wait  till  your  return  for  his  visit.'' 

"No,  Hawks,  I  can't  afford  to  take  any  chances  on  the 
old  man.  He  kind  o'  dotes  on  me,  and  he  is  without  an 
heir;  has  lots  o'  niggers  and  land,  and  but  one  poor  rela- 
tion. You  see,  he  wrote  me  just  before  we  left  the  city 
to  be  sure  and  stop  on  my  way  up,  as  he  had  important 
matters  for  me  to  attend  to;  you'd  better  stop  off  with 
me  and  perhaps  you  may  be  able  to  gather  up  some  ne- 
groes there  to  fill  your  orders." 

"  I  have  no  orders,  Barnes,  for  anything  but  for  some 
fancy  articles.  I  reckon  you  don't  keep  that  kind  of 
cattle  there  in  your  small  town.  Come  down,  and  let  us 
have  another  game  before  you  leave  us  anyway." 

"No,  Hawks,  I  won't  play  another  game.  You  already 
have  my  spare  cash,  and  I  must  not  ask  favors  first  thing 
when  I  see  my  uncle." 

"Tell  you  what  L"ll  do,  Barnes.  I'll  play  you  $200 
against  your  watch  and  chain.  Come,  now,  if  you  dare. 
I'll  give  you  a  chance  for  your  life ;  and  if  you  win,  I'll 
agree  to  stop  over  a  day  or  two,  and  we'll  go  up  to 
Louisville  together." 


50  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

*'  Damn  it,  Hawks  you  know  my  weakness,  and  that  I 
can't  take  a  dare.  Come  on,  I'll  give  you  a  trial  even  if 
I  am  out  of  luck  to-day." 

When  the  "  Scott "  blew  her  whistle  for  Lucaston,  Barnes 
and  Hawks  came  out  of  the  saloon  wiping  their  mus- 
taches, Barnes  looking  flushed  and  smiling. 

"You  are  going  to  stay  over  with  me  in  accordance 
with  your  promise,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Porter,  bring  down  my  baggage,"  said  Hawks. 

"  I'll  take  you  to  the  hotel,  as  I  know  nothing  of  my 
uncle's  household  arrangements,"  said  Barnes. 

"  All  right,  my  boy ;  we  can  have  a  good  time  there,  I 
reckon." 

At  the  wharf.  Dr.  Barnes  was  waiting  with  his  carriage 
for  his  nephew  ;  and  after  their  greeting  was  over,  young 
Barnes  introduced,  "  My  friend,  Mr.  Hawks  "  to  his  uncle. 

The  doctor  drove  to  the  hotel,  and  on  the  way  home 
he  said:  "By  the  way,  Harry,  who  was  that  flashy  look- 
ing fellow  you  introduced  to  me?  " 

Harry  colored,  and  said  hastily:  "  Oh,  he's  an  enter- 
taining sort  of  a  fellow  I  picked  up  on  the  road  ;  his  name 
is  Hawks." 

"  Humph  !  "  said  the  doctor.  "Well,  if  you  were  so  in- 
discreet as  to  'pick  him  up,'  I  advise  you  to  lose  no  time 
in  dropping  him." 

The  doctor  had  been  fond  and  proud  of  his  handsome 
young  nephew,  but  there  was  something  now  which  made 
him  put  on  his  glasses  and  give  a  long,  scrutinizing 
glance  at  his  young  face.  What  he  saw  there,  we  do  not 
know,  but  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  must  go  down  and  talk 
with  Lucy  about  this  boy  ;  he  needs  looking  after.  Why, 
it  would  break  her  heart  if  he  went  wrong." 

When  young  Barnes  was  made  acquainted  with  the 
nature  of  the  business  his  uncle  desired  to  entrust  him 
with  he  seemed  greatly  puzzled. 

"  I  am  at  a  loss,  uncle,  to  understand  why  Miss  Kate, 
or  rather  Mrs.  Fletcher,  wishes  to  part  with  such  a 
valuable  servant.  And  it  occurs  to  me,  uncle,  that  the  baby 
Martha  was  carrying  this  morning,  which,  I  take  it,  was 
hers,  is  about  as  white  as  Mrs.  Fletcher's.  How  does  it 
strike  you  ? " 

"Yes;  and  I  suppose  this  is  the  cause  of  selling  or 
sending  away  this  valuable    woman.     It  looks  as   much 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  5 1 

like  Bernard  Fletcher  as  his  own  child  does ;  and  yet  it  may 
be  unjust  suspicion,  for,  by  the  laws  of  physiology,  the 
'sins  of  the  fathers  are  visited  upon  the  children  to  the 
third  and  fourth  generation  ;  and  some  white  ancestor 
may  reappear  in  this  poor  little  waif,  who,  with  her 
mother,  is  turned  adrift,  like  Hagar  in  the  wilderness." 

"  Yes,  uncle,  it  is  the  old  story  repeated ;  so  the  world 
has  not  changed  much  in  the  last  four  thousand  years." 

So  it  was  settled,  that  when  the  old  steamer  "  Clermont  " 
came  on  her  way  from  St.  Louis  to  Louisville,  Harry 
Barnes  was  to  take  to  his  mother  Martha  and  her  child. 

When  all  were  safely  stowed  on  the  steamer,  and  Martha 
and  her  baby  turned  over  to  the  chambermaid  for  care. 
Hawks  took  the  arm  of  Harry  Barnes,  and  said  : 

"Let  us  have  something  to  drink.  You  liave  done 
little  else  than  attend  to  that  uncle  of  yours.  Are  you  so 
fond  of  him  ?  " 

"Well,  I  am  as  much  as  a  poor  nephew  can  be  of  a 
rich  uncle  who  is  likely  to  make  him  his  heir;  and  then, 
you  see,  he  has  been  giving  me  instructions  in  regard  to 
a  piece  of  important  business  I  am  to  transact  for  him  at 
Louisville." 

"Has  that  handsome  wench  and  baby  anything  to  do 
with  it  ?  How  is  it  you  never  mentioned  to  me  there  was 
such  a  piece  of  furniture  to  be  had  in  your  little  burgh  ?  " 

"Well,  you  see,  Hawks,  I  had  no  idea  that  woman  could 
have  been  bought  for  love  or  money." 

Then  Barnes  detailed  to  his  companion  the  troubles  at 
"  The  Glen  "  as  he  understood  them  ;  not  omitting  the 
transfer  of  Martha  and  the  blank  bill-of-sale  which  he  had 
in  his  possession.  Hawks's  eyes  twinkled  with  delight  as 
he  heard  this  latter  bit  of  news,  and  givinghis  companion  a 
thrust  in  the  ribs  with  his  cane,  he  good-humoredly  said  : 

"  Barnes,  you  are  a  lucky  dog.  I'd  give  you  a  clear 
thousand  for  that  article ;  but  damn  the  brat — what  could 
be  done  with  that  ?  I  don't  suppose  anything  would  tempt 
the  mother  to  part  with  it." 

During  this  time,  they  had  taken  their  drinks,  and  re- 
turned to  the  upper  deck  and  were  now  seated  at  the 
stern  of  the  steamer,  lookmg  back  at  Lucaston,  which 
was  beautifully  located  on  a  commanding  point  of  the 
river  bank. 

"  I  want  revenge  on  you,  Barnes,  for  the  last  game  you 


52  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

beat  me  the  other  day.     Come,  let  us  step  into    '  Texas,' 
here,    and  have  a  game  to  while  away  the  time.  " 

"  No,"   said    Barnes,   "  I    don't    feel  in  any  mood    for' 
playing  this  afternoon." 

Hawks  knew  his  man  too  well  to  press  the  matter 
further,  and  said : 

"  Well,  join  me  in  a  bottle  of  wine.  I  have  had 
nothing  at  your  country  tavern  but  whiskey  straight." 

"  Then,  I  conclude  you  found  the  whiskey  good." 

"Nectar;  fit  for  a  pirate  king;  but  come  in,  and  let  us 
have  the  wine." 

So  saying,  they  sauntered  into  the  room  under  the  pilot- 
house, usually  denominated  "Texas"  on  Southern 
steamers.  The  wine  was  called  for  and  drunk.  Barnes 
also  called  for  a  bottle,  and  under  the  generous  influence 
of  potations,  the  subject  of  cards  was  renewed,  and  they 
were  soon  playing  for  small  stakes.  The  fickle  goddess 
seemed  to  favor  Barnes,  who  won  nearly  every  game. 
Hawks  declared  the  stakes  were  so  small  as  not  to  tempt 
him ;  and  the  game  was  soon  discontinued  for  the 
night. 

Toward  midnight  of  the  second  day,  Hawks  and 
Barnes  were  again  playing,  when  Hawks  called  on  the 
bartender  for  some  brandy  and  sugar  for  two,  saying  as 
he  looked  up  to  his  companion  : 

''  I  presume  I  may  order  for  you  ?  " 

Barnes  nodded  assent,  as,  with  an  abstracted  air,  he 
only  half  saw  Hawks  shufifle  the  cards,  adding : 

"  I  want  to  retire  soon.  Hawks.  I  can't  bear  to  have 
my  mother  see  me  to-morrow,  after  such  a  night  as  I  see 
you  have  laid  out  for  us." 

"  Never  you  mind  about  to-morrow ;  you'll  look  as 
fresh  as  a  daisy  after  an  hour's  sleep." 

The  bartender  himself  brought  the  brandy  ;  and,  while 
Barnes  was  eying  intently  the  cards  dealt  him.  Hawks 
took  one  of  the  glasses  and,  turning  around  as  if  to 
examine  it,  emptied  a  white  powder  into  the  liquid;  then 
taking  the  other  glass,  he  said  : 

"  Here's  to  Fortune  :  may  she  ever  favor  the  fair  !  " 

Wiping  his  mustache  with  deliberation,  and  watching 
his  companion  as  he  examined  his  cards,  with  a  percepti- 
ble smile  upon  his  face,  before  drinking  his  brandy,  he 
inquired : 


THE   STORMY   PETREL,  53 

"  Well,  how  do  you  like  them  ?  Not  a  bad  hand,  I 
judge  by  the  way  you  smile,  Barnes." 

"Ah,  did  I  smile?  Well,  to  be  candid,  you  gave  me  a 
pretty  fair  hand,  Hawks." 

As  Hawks  examined  his  cards,  a  scowl  was  plainly 
visible  on  his  face  ;  and  he  said  : 

"  What  do  you  do,  Barnes  ?  " 

"  Since  you  complain  of  the  small  stakes,  I  am  in  for 
that  'pot  —$50." 

Hawks  mused  a  monieiit;  looked  at  his  cards  again; 
then,  as  if  speaking  to  himself,  said  : 

"  '  Faint  heart  never  won  fair  lady,'  or  anything  else 
worth  winning,"  and  he  covered  the  $50,  and  then  hesi- 
tated a  little.  "  I'll  go  you  $50  better,  just  to  try  your 
mettle,"  he  added,  in  a  half-sneering  tone. 

Barnes  looked  up  quickly  and  the  blood  rushed  to  his 
face  as  if  an  insult  had  been  offered  him,  and  excitedly 
put  down  a  $50  bill,  saying  as  he  did  so  : 

"Well,  ril  call — no,  I'll  risk  the  pile;  here  is  5300 
better.     Now,  we  will  see jiv^i//;- mettle." 

His  companion  smiled  as  he  had  not  done  before. 

"I  like  your  grit,  Barnes,  but  I  am  in  now,  and  'the 
longest  pole  knocks  the  persimmons.'  There  is  $300  to 
see  yours,  and  a  cool  thousand  that  says  mine's  the  best 
hand." 

Barnes  bit  his  lip,  and  the  blood  surged  again  to  his 
face  and  bnck  to  his  heart,  as  he  sat  speechless,  gazing  at 
his  cards.     Finally  he  said  : 

"  You  know  I  have  no  more  money,  and  you  must  give 
me  a  show  for  my  life." 

"  You  have  other  valuables  that  will  enable  you  tf> 
come  in  if  you  have  confidence  in  your  hand.  Can't 
admit  this  pleading  the  baby-act  here.  'Put  up  or  shut 
up  '  is  my  motto." 

Barnes  felt  goaded  by  each  of  these  taunts.  He 
replied  : 

"I  only  have  my  watch;  that  is  not  enough  to  call. 
You  make  it  $200  instead  of  a  thousand,  or — lend  the 
$800  to  me,  and  I'll  call." 

"Oh,  no;  I  don't  care,  my  bov,  to  lend  you  a  stick  to 
break  my  head  with.  You  are  too  modest  by  half  in 
enumerating  your  worldly  goods.  He  leaned  forward,  a 
curious  expression  coming  into  his  beady  black  eyes.     I 


54  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

think,  if  you  will  examine  the  packet  sent  to  your  niolher, 
you  will  find  there  the  wherewith  to  call  me." 

"  No,  you  are  mistaken,  sir,"  said  Barnes,  at  the  same 
time  drawing  out  the  package  of  papers  referred  to  and 
handing  them  across  the  table  to  his  companion,  saying  : 

"Examine  for  yourself." 

Hawks  did  as  he  was  requested ;  and  after  carefully 
reading  the  bill-of-sale  and  the  private  letter  of  Dr.  Barnes 
to  his  sister-in-law,  which  was  unsealed,  he  coolly  handed 
the  bill-of-sale  back,  saying :  "  Put  my  name  in  the  blank 
there  (indicating),  and  "$i,ooo"  in  this  blank  (indicat- 
ing), and  you  can  call  me  for  that  pot.  Otherwise,  I 
shall  be  under  the  necessity  of  raking  it  down." 

Barnes  looked  at  him  with  scorn  and  contempt ;  his 
lip  curled  as  he  said:  "Do  you  take  me  for  a  thief? 
Here  is  a  trust  I  don't  propose  to  betray."  A  look  of 
honest  indignation  blazed  for  a  moment  in  his  face,  and 
then  faded  out,  as  he  added  : 

"  Make  the  stake  $200  and  I'll  call  it  with  my  watch. 
You  must  give  me  a  chance  for  my  life.  You  know  I 
have  the  best  hand  and  you  propose  to  bluff  me  out !  " 

"  If  you  are  so  sure  your  hand  is  the  best,  Barnes,  you 
run  no  risk  in  filling  in  my  name  there,  and  it  can  easily 
be  erased.  Come,  I  am  tired  of  this ;  either  play  the 
game  or  quit !  "  and  with  that,  he  put  his  hand  upon  the 
money  and  sat  looking  at  his  companion,  his  cold  glitter- 
ing eyes  freezing  the  blood. 

Barnes  looked  again  at  his  hand  and  then  at  the  paper 
that  had  been  handed  to  him.     Finally  he  said  : 

"  It  is  impossible.  My  uncle  will  know  it  whether  I 
should  win  or  lose." 

"  Not  unless  you  have  a  mind  to  tell  him,  Barnes. 
The  letter  there  to  your  mother  treats  the  matter  as  of  so 
great  secrecy  that  she  is  not  to  mention  it  in  her  corre- 
spondence, and  he  will  conclude  you  have  carried  out  his 
orders,  unless,  as  I  said,  you  choose  to  tell  him." 

"  Damnation,  Hawks,  did  you  read  the  private  let- 
ter ? " 

"Of  course  ;  you  handed  me  the  papers  and  told  me  to 
satisfy  myself,  and  I  did  so.  You're  all  right  with  that 
paper  in  your  possession  ;  all  that  ails  you,  Barnes,  is  lack 
of  sand.  I  see  you  are  going  to  back,"  and  Hawks  began 
to  "  haul  dpwn  "  the  money. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  55 

'■  Hold !  ''    exclaimed    Barnes,  stung    to    the    quick  by 

this  last  taunt.    "  Where  is  the  pen  ?   By ,  I'll  see  that 

hand  if  I  die  for  it  !  " 

He  put  his  hands  to  his  head  ;  his  brain  seemed  on 
fire  ;  and  there  was  a  strange  sensation  there  that  made 
him  falter. 

"Don't  give  out,  Barnesy  boy,"  said  his  companion, 
producing  the  pen  and  ink.  "  There's  pen  and  ink,  if 
you  are  not  too  much  excited  to  write.  Come,  come — 
quiet  down.  You  are  not  going  to  die  for  this,  nor  any- 
thing like  it,"  he  added,  in  a  conciliatory  manner. 

When  young  Barnes  returned  the  paper  Hawks 
looked  over  it,  remarking:     "What  now?" 

"  Place  it  on  that  pile,  and  I  call  you  !  "  exclaimed 
Barnes. 

"Very  well,"  said  Hawks.  "I  have  two  pairs,"  as  he 
placed  the  bill-of-sale  on  the  pile  of  money." 

"  And  I,"  said  Barnes,  laconically — "  how  big  ?  Let's 
see  ?  Can  you  overtop  those  .'' "  exposing  a  pair  of  kings 
and  a  pair  of  aces ;  and  so  sure  was  he  of  winning,  that 
he  put  forth  his  hand  for  the  prize,  when  Hawks,  by  a 
quick  movement,  placed  his  hand  on  the  "pot,"  saying 
as  he  did  so  : 

"  Look  at  these  !  '  laying  four  jacks  on  the  table. 
"  You  see  my  two  pairs  are  all  alike." 

Barnes  sprang  to  his  feet  and  stood  gazing  at  his  com- 
panion, half  bewildered,  as  Hawks  carefully  folded  the 
bill-of-sale,  placing  it  in  his  breast-pocket,  stuffing  in 
also  the  roll  of  bills.  He  counted  out  five  $50  bills  and 
said,  as  he  threw  them  to  Barnes : 

"There;  you  may  return  this  at  anytime  it  may  suit 
you  to  do  so.  Now,  let  me  see  :  we  will  soon  meet  the 
'  Scott '  on  her  return  trip.  I  must  have  things  in  readi- 
ness to  go  back  to  St.  Louis  on  her,  as  there  will  be  press- 
ing need  for  me  in  Jefferson  City  on  Saturday.  Barnes, 
my  boy,  I  wish  you  would  arrange  with  that  girl  to  be 
ready  when  we  meet  the  '  Scott.'  In  order  to  save  a 
scene,  you'd  better  pretend  to  go  on  board  and  leave  me 
to  make  arrangements  for  the  change  of  destination  as 
well  as  ownership." 

Thus  Hawks  ran  on,  as  though  only  an  ordinary  event 
had  occurred. 

Harry  Barnes  sank  down,  with  his  head  bowed  in   his 


56  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

hands,  resting  upon  the  table,  paying  no  heed  to  what 
was  said  or  the  money  which  had  been  flung  upon  the 
table. 

Leaving  him,  Hawks  stepped  up  to  the  pilot  and 
inquired  where  they  should  meet  the  "  Scott." 

"Just  around  the  bend — that  is  her  light  you  see 
there  now.     She  is  a  little  late." 

"Hail  her,  Mr.  Pilot,  and  run  alongside;  I  want  to 
board  her.  Where  is  the  captain  .''  Is  he  on  watch  to- 
night ?  " 

"  No,  Mr.  Hawks,  not  since  eleven  o'clock.  He  turned 
in  then,  and  the  first  mate  is  on  duty  since." 

"  Call  him  through  the  trumpet,  and  have  a  line  i:)assed 
to  the  '  Scott  '  and  a  plank  for  some  passengers,"  said 
Hawks,  authoritatively. 

He  next  went  to  the  chambermaid,  whom  he  found 
nodding  in  her  chair. 

*'  Kitty,"  he  said,  "  I  want  the  woman  and  baby  that 
got  on  at  Lucaston  yesterday,  gotten  ready  immediately. 
Tell  her  Mr.  Barnes,  her  young  master,  and  myself  are 
going  to  return  on  tiie  '  Scott '  when  we  meet  her,  which 
will  be  in  a  few  minutes.  "Take  that  "  (slipping  a  silver 
dollar  in  her  hand),  "  and  see  that  you  have  her  ready  in 
time." 

"All  right,  Mr.  Hawks,  rely  on  me  for  that.  We  are 
sorry  to  lose  you  so  soon." 

While  the  chambermaid  ■was  getting  Martha  in  readi- 
ness, and  the  mate  below  arranging  his  gang-plank  and 
line.  Hawks  looked  in  upon  Harry,  who  remained  in  the 
same  position  he  left  him  at  the  card  table  in  "Texas." 
Touching  hnn  upon  the  shoulder  and  calling  him  by 
name,  he  continued  : 

"  Cheer  up,  old  boy.  Here,  put  this  money  away," 
at  the  same  time  stuffing  the  bills  into  the  breast-pocket 
of  the  miserable  man's  coat,  adding  in  soliloquy  :  "  Til 
take  all  these  papers  that  have  reference  to  the  nigger; 
now  that  she's  mine,  I  may  need  them."  So  saying,  he 
gathered  u]3  the  letter  of  Dr.  Barnes,  and  the  other 
papers  lying  upon  the  table. 

"Come,  Barnes,  rouse  up,  old  fellow;  you're  not  drunk 
are  you  ? "  and  he  gave  his  companion  a  rousing  shake  ; 
but  still  no  sign  of  consciousness.  "  Damn  it  !  I  don't 
w^nt   to  leave  you  in  this  condition.     Can  it  be  that  i 


THE    STORMY   PETREL.  57 

have  overdosed  him  ?  Oh,  I  guess  he'll  be  all  right  by 
morning." 

He  then  went  quickly  to  the  clerk's  ofifice  and  told  that 
worthy  to  have  Barnes  put  to  bed,  adding  :  "  He  has 
taken  too  much,  and  must  sleep  it  off.  Are  we  nearing 
the  '  Scott '.''  I  suppose  the  mate  told  you  I  want  to  return 
on  her." 

"  Yes  ;  we'll  run  alongside." 

"  I  have  some  papers  for  Captain  Swan,  and  instruc- 
tions to  deliver  them  on  meeting  him  anywhere,  as  they 
are  of  importance  ;  so  his  agent  in  St.  Louis  said." 

Soon,  the  steamers  shrieked  out  their  signals  and  ran 
alongside. 

Martha  with  her  child  was  hurried  across  the  plank, 
in  the  light  of  glowing  furnace  fires  of  both  steamers  and 
she  seemed  going  to  a  fiery  region. 

Hawks  followed  soon  after;  and  Captain  Swan  cried 
out : 

"  All  aboard  !  Let  her  go  down  there  !  Give  her  a 
turn  ahead,  Mr.  Pilot,"  and  ahead  she  went. 

Martha  stood  upon  the  lower  deck,  her  haggard  eyes 
looking  piteously  about  for  Harry  Barnes,  her  young- 
master.  When  Hawks  came  near  her,  she  said  to  him, 
in  soft,  timid  voice  : 

"  1  saw  you  with  Mars  Harry  Barnes  yesterday.  He 
has  sent  word  to  me  to  get  on  this  boat ;  can  you  tell  me 
where  he  is,  sir  ? 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  guess  that's  all  right.  He'll  be  'round 
soon.  However,  I'll  see  to  you.  Come  to  the  cham- 
bermaid and  wait  until  I  find  him  for  you." 

He  returned  soon  to  the  clerk;  gave  orders  concerning 
Martha's  care,  and  instructions  that  if  she  inquired  about 
her  young  master  Harry  Barnes,  she  was  to  be  told  he 
was  all  right. 

"  That's  something  fancy  you've  been  buying,  I 
reckon,"  said  the  clerk,  with  a  wink  at  Hawks,  who  seemed 
to  know  all  river  men. 

"  Well,  you  see  I  have  a  sister  up  in  Jefferson  City 
who  wanted  a  good  maid,  and  gave  me  an  order  some 
months  ago  to  find  one  for  her ;  so  I  am  taking  her  up, 
and  hope  she  will  suit." 

So  saying,  he  placed  a  package  of  papers  upon  the 
counter,  remarking: 


58  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"Jim,  take  good  care  of  these  ;  put  them  in  your  safe. 
I  am  going  as  far  as  St.  Louis  with  you.  Now,  the  next 
thing  is,  to  have  that  girl  there  stowed  away;  then  you 
may  dispose  of  me.     Got  any  place,  eh  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  your  old  room.  I'll  look  after  the  other  mat- 
ter and  3'ou  can  turn  in  whenever  you  are  ready.  Here's 
the  key." 

On  the  following  day,  Martha  sat,  with  her  babe  in  her 
arms,  upon  deck,  motionless,  silent,  despairing.  If  she 
could  only  summon  courage  to  end  it  all,  by  one  leap  with 
her  child  into  those  dark,  rushing  waters  !  She  could 
have  done  it  gladly  had  she  been  alone.  But  how  could 
she  drag  that  warm,  clinging  little  creature  down  into 
those  cold  depths  ?  She  shuddered  to  think  of  it,  and 
clasped  the  sleeping  child  convulsively. 

Hawks  had  been  watching  her  from  a  distance,  and 
sauntered  carelessly  by  where  she  sat. 

"I  suppose  you  found  your  young  master  all  right  ? " 
said  he. 

The  desperate  impulse  faded  away,  and  with  languid 
submission,  she  answered:  "No,  sir;  I  haven't  seen 
him.     What  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

The  pathos  of  the  helpless  question  would  have  touched 
any  but  a  heart  of  stone. 

"  Well,  you  had  better  come  along  with  me,"  answered 
Hawks  ;  "  I'll  see  that  you  get  to  him  all  right.  He  must 
have  got  left  on  the  other  boat,  and  he'll  be  along  in  a 
day  or  two.     I'll  look  after  you." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  she  murmured,  timidly. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

When  Hawks  arrived  at  Jefferson  City,  he  informed 
his  sister,  Mrs.  Hunter,  that  this  was  a  woman  and  child 
he  had  bought,  and  wanted  them  to  remain  with  her  for  a 
short  time  until  he  returned  to  New  Orleans  ;  and  that  he 
had  to  play  a  little  deception  in  order  to  get  her  quietly 
away  from  her  former  master  and  home,  by  telling  her 
she  was  sold  to  Mrs.  Barnes. 

''Humor  the  thing,"  he  said,  a  few  days  later,  on  taking 
leave  ;  "  and  see  if  you  can't  bribe  her  to  sell  or  give  you 
her  baby." 

"No,  Tom,"  said  Mrs.  Hunter;  "  I  would  not  have  that 
child  at  any  price  or  on  any  conditions.  If  she  is  the 
mother,  it  is  too  white  to  be  a  slave.  I  am  somehow  led 
to  suspect  it  is  a  stolen  white  child,  for  I  can  see  no  trace 
of  the  negro  in  its  features." 

"There's  no  doubt  about  her  being  the  mother  of  the 
child,  d — n  it  ;  she  wouldn't  cling  to  anybody  else's  baby 
as  she  does  to  that.  Why,  she  glares  at  me  like  a  tigress 
if  I  talk  of  separating  it  from  her,  and  I  reckon  its  white 
complexion  is  what  made  the  trouble  and  led  to  my  get- 
ting hold  of  as  pretty  a  piece  of  property  as  there  is  in  the 
South.  By  Jove,  what  eyes,  and  what  a  carriage  of  the 
head,  and  what  shoulders  !  Egad,  I'm  fortunate  !"  And 
Mr.  Hawks  gave  one  of  his  pleasant,  suggestive  laughs. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  he,  turning  to  his  sister,  "see  that 
she  is  kept  out  of  sight  and  that  she  keeps  her  mouth  shut." 

So  saying,  he  passed  out  by  way  of  the  servants'  quar- 
ters, and  soon  found  Martha,  the  object  of  his  search. 

Martha  listened  impassively  as  he  told  her  that  Harry 
Barnes  had  been  left  by  the  boat  just  as  he  supposed, 
and  was  ill  now,  but  would  come  or  send  for  her  in  a  day 
or  two. 

What  difference  did  it  make  to  her  where  she  wms  or 
with  whom  !  Such  was  her  thought  as  Hawks  stood 
examining  her  points  with  scrutinizing  gaze. 

"  You  are  to  stay  right  here  for  the  present,"  said  he. 


Go  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"  Now,  Martha,"  he  added,  in  gentler  tone,  "  if  you  will 
consent  to  part  with  that  child  of  yours /will  buy  you, 
and  give  you  a  home  where  work  will  be  a  stranger  to 
your  hands.  Think  of  what  I  have  told  you,  and  on  my 
return,  I'll  see  what  Mrs.  Barnes  will  take  for  you."' 

Martha  looked  after  him  as  he  walked  away,  hate, 
loathing,  reckless  despair  in  her  eyes.  ''If  you  take 
away  my  child,  I  will  kill  myself."  She  said  it  with 
deliberate,  determined  emphasis.  A  memor\'^  of  past 
kindness,  of  Miss  Kate,  of  Dick,  swept  over  her,  and,  for 
the  first  time,  tears — blessed  tears — came  to  her  relief ; 
and  as  she  sobbed,  the  awful  passion  of  her  grief  seemed 
assuaged. 

Some  time  elapsed  before  Hawks  succeeded  in 
obtaining  the  number  of  slaves  he  desired,  to  fill  the 
orders  he  had  received.  He  decided  to  concentrate 
them  at  Booneville,  where  Martha  could  see  and  know 
what  he  was  going  to  do,  and  she  could  then  choose  her 
position  as  among  the  slaves  or  above  them. 

Mrs.  Barnes,  of  course,  did  not  appear  to  claim  her; 
and  upon  Hawks'  return  to  JefTerson  City,  Martha  was 
informed  that  she  belonged  to  him  ;  that  young  Barnes 
had  been  taken  violently  ill,  and  been  sent  to  his  mother, 
in  Louisville,  where  he  had  died  of  brain  fever  ;  that  Mrs. 
Barnes  had  offered  to  sell  Martha  to  him  for  $1200, 
which  sum  he  had  paid  for  her. 

That  portion  of  his  story  relating  to  Barnes'  illness 
and  death  was  too  true.  Soon  after  the  steamers  parted 
company,  in  mid-river,  on  the  Ohio,  during  that  night  in 
June,  the  clerk  sought  to  arouse  j^oung  Barnes,  but  was 
unsuccessful;  and  he  was  finally  carried  to  his  state-room 
in  an  unconscious  stupor,  evidently  the  result  of  the  drug- 
that  had  been  administered  to  him  in  his  last  draught  of 
brandy. 

On  the  following  day,  he  awoke  with  great  pain  in  his 
head  ;  and  after  several  ineffectual  efforts  to  rise  or  to 
recall  the  events  of  the  last  few  hours,  he  finally  remem- 
bered the  trust  his  uncle  had  given  him,  and  at  last  came 
the  memory  of  the  game  of  cards  and  the  stake  for  which 
he  had  played  and — lost !  His  mind  could  only  grasp 
the  dim  outlines  of  the  events  of  his  companion's  depart- 
ure from  the  state-room,  and  some  injunctions  about 
silence  regarding  the  fate  of  Martha. 


THE    STORMV    PETREL.  6l 

In  despair,  with  a  moan,  he  attempted  to  rise  again 
from  his  pillow  only  to  see  the  state-room  and  its  furni- 
ture spin  around,  and  finally  to  dissolve  into  space,  and 
he  fell  heavily  back  in  a  swoon  ! 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  "  Clermont  "  at  her  dock  at 
Louisville,  Harry  Barnes  was  found  in  his  berth  in  a  com- 
atose state  with  high  fever,  and  continued  mutterings 
about  the  "betrayal  of  a  trust."  When  the  captain 
learned  his  condition,  he  sent  a  messenger  to  his  mother 
and  had  him  conveyed  to  her  home. 

For  days,  incoherent  words  were  all  that  he  uttered  ; 
and  what  was  supposed  to  be  brain  fever  dragged  its 
weary  and  painful  length  over  the  suiTerer.  The  fearful 
agony  endured  upon  the  steamer  in  that  last  game  of 
cards,  now  came  surging  over  him  with  every  increase  of 
the  fever,  and  the  face  of  Hawks  appeared  like  a  mock- 
ing demon  luring  him  on  to  destruction. 

Upon  his  return  to  consciousness,  Harry  Barnes  made 
an  effort  to  explain  to  his  mother  something  of  the  cir- 
cumstances that  had  befallen  him.  The  effort  brought 
on  a  relapse,  and  he  never  recovered  consciousness  after- 
wards, dying  with  the  secret  locked  in  his  bosom  and 
only  known  to  Tom  Hawks,  who  had  returned  to  Louis- 
ville and  kept  himself  informed  as  to  young  Barnes' 
condition  while  he  remained  at  a  safe  distance  from  his 
victim. 

The  warm  weather  had  passed,  and  autumn  with  its 
brief  Indian  summer  was  waning  rapidh',  when  Hawks 
returned  to  Jefferson  City.  He  had  drank  deeply  since 
the  death  of  Harry  Barnes,  and  his  usual  prompt  busi- 
ness habits  seemed  to  have  deserted  him.  He  had  seen 
the  funeral  procession  of  the  widow's  son  at  Louisville, 
and  in  a  debauch  that  night,  had  tried  to  escape  from 
the  avenging  angel  that  followed  him. 

The  brutal  nature  of  the  man  was  now  fully  aroused ; 
and  when  he  became  convinced  that  Martha  would  resist 
any  attempt  at  separation  from  her  child,  he  determined 
to  resort  to  the  harshest  measures  in  his  power  on  the 
tri])  and  at  Booneville. 

A  month  later,  when  preparing  to  start  south,  he 
bound  his  human  chattels,  Martha  with  the  rest,  in 
couples,  and  placed  them  on  board  a  steamer  for  St. 
Louis,     It  was  late  in  November,  and  he  had  received  an 


62  THE    STORIMY    PETREL. 

urgent  summons  from  parties  in  New  Orleans  to  reach 
that  place  at  an  early  day. 

On  the  second  night,  there  came  up  a  fearful  storm, 
compelling  the  steamer  to  lie-to  where  she  had  stopped 
to  discharge  freight.  The  wind  shifted  suddenly  to  the 
north  and  the  weather  became  intensely  cold.  The  gale 
prevented  the  steamer  from  attempting  to  move  on  the 
following  day,  and  the  floating  ice  gave  warning  that 
there  was  danger  that  the  steamer  might  have  to  winter 
in  the  unlooked-for  quarters. 

On  the  third  day,  the  wind  abated,  and  the  captain 
made  an  effort  to  proceed  on  his  voyage.  After  a  night 
of  battle  with  the  ice,  about  daylight  on  the  following 
morning  an  alarm  was  given  that  the  boat  was  leak- 
ing badly  from  a  large  rent  in  the  hull,  cut  by  the 
ice. 

The  wildest  confusion  prevailed  on  board,  especially  on 
the  after-deck,  where  the  slaves  were  bound  together  in 
hopeless  bondage.  Hawks  rushed  from  his  state-room, 
and  with  pistol  in  hand,  commanded  silence  and  obedi- 
ence from  his  slaves. 

The  pilot  headed  the  boat  for  the  shore  and  succeeded 
in  reaching  it,  when  she  careened  to  one  side  and  settled 
down  so  that  the  floating  ice  almost  swept  the  lower  deck. 
Hawks  hastily  marched  his  slaves  to  the  upper  deck, 
where  a  staging  was  rigged  and  passengers  were  trans- 
ferred to  the  shore. 

Martha  was  encumbered  with  her  child  ;  and  in  crossing 
the  staging  she  fell,  and  but  for  the  main  strength  and 
presence  of  mind  of  the  woman  to  whom  she  was  tied, 
would  have  fallen  into  the  angry  waters  that  were  howl- 
ing like  so  many  demons  between  the  sunken  vessel  and 
the  shore. 

The  command  of  Hawks  to,    "  Let  the  d d  brat  go 

and  save  yourself,"  was  unheeded;  and  as  soon  as  the 
slaves  were  on  shore,  he  said  in  an  angry  tone  : 

"Your  devilish  obstinacy  in  hanging  on  to  that  child  has 
come  near  costing  me  two  thousand  dollars ;  and  now  I 
warn  you,  I  shall  dispose  of  it  at  the  first  opportunity,  in 
my  own  way.  I  have  tried  kindness  and  coaxing  with 
you ;  now  we'll  see  how  another  tack  will  answer,  with 
your  infernal  fuss  about  that  baby." 

"If  you  want  to  please  me,  you  will  kill  us  both,"  said 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  6^ 

she,  with  a  reckless  defiance,  looking  straight  into  his 
cruel  eyes. 

"  Not  another  word,  d n  you,"  and  he  turned  away 

to  superintend  his  luggage,  which  was  now  being  trans- 
ferred ashore. 

The  morning  was  very  cold  and  the  wind  blew  violently. 
Some  cabins  of  the  wood-choppers  were  taken  possession 
of  and  a  fire  kindled  in  the  old  deserted  and  tumble-down 
fire-places.  This  being  a  wood-yard,  the  steamer's  whistle, 
that  was  blown  violently  as  soon  as  she  was  in  distress, 
brought  the  men  who  lived  near  by.  Hawks  made  arrange- 
ments with  one  of  them  to  carry  him  to  the  next  town 
where  he  could  get  conveyance  for  his  slaves  to  St. 
Charles,  from  which  place  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  reach 
St.  Louis  before  the  close  of  lower  navigation  on  the  Mis- 
sissippi. After  three  days'  tedious  travel,  he  succeeded  in 
reaching  St.  Charles,  and  obtaining  some  venturesome 
boatmen,  under  heavy  bribes,  to  attempt  crossing  the  Mis- 
souri River,  filled  with  floating  ice  of  wonderful  shapes 
and  sizes  that  the  current  was  bearing  rapidly  down,  so 
a.s  to  effectually  prevent  the  usual  ferry  boat  from  cross- 
ing. 

The  boatmen  said  they  could  force  their  way  over,  so 
that  the  party  embarked  on  what  seemed  like  a  frail  skiff 
for  such  a  voyage.  On  stepping  into  the  boat,  Martha 
missed  her  footing  and  would  have  fallen  into  the  water 
had  not  Hawks  seized  her,  snatched  the  baby  from  her 
trembling  grasp  and  hurled  it  through  the  air,  as  related 
in  the  opening  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

After  crossing  the  river  at  St.  Charles,  with  his  gang 
of  slaves,  Hawks  procured  teams  and  arrived  in  St.  Louis 
that  night.  He  drove  to  one  of  his  well-known  haunts, 
where  Martha  and  the  other  slaves  were  placed  in  a  back 
portion  of  the  building,  by  means  of  a  private  way  through 
a  narrow  alley  ;  and  though  delirious  and  burning  with 
fever,  Martha  walked  along,  caressing  a  bundle  of  clothes 
as  her  baby,  sometimes  talking  soothingly  to  it  and  again 
raving  and  trying  to  rescue  it  from  drowning  in  the  most 
piteous  tones. 

Medical  aid  was  at  once  summoned,  as  Hawks  felt 
alarmed  for  the  result  of  his  inhuman  act  in  taking  the 
child  from  the  mother  in  such  a  brutal  way. 

The  physician  pronounced  the  case  brain  fever,  caused 
by  cold  and  some  great  mental  shock.  After  leaving 
medicine  and  giving  instructions  to  keep  the  patient  as 
quiet  as  possible,  he  took  his  leave,  promising  to  look  in 
on  the  morrow. 

"That  is  a  valuable  woman,"  said  he,  as  he  walked  down- 
stairs with  Hawks,  who  had  been  present  and  witnessed 
the  diagnosis  of  the  case.  "  She  must  have  cost  you  a 
round  sum.  Where  did  you  get  her?  Up  country,  I  sup- 
pose ?     But  you  may  lose  her.     She  is  desperately  ill." 

Hawks  answered  or  evaded  the  questions  of  Dr.  Elmore 
as  suited  his  purpose. 

On  the  following  day,  Martha's  condition  was  worse, 
and  day  after  day  the  doctor  called.  He  shook  his  head 
when  Hawks  inquired  if  there  was  any  hope,  saying  only  : 

'"As  long  as  there  is  life,  there  is  hope.'  " 

"  I  must  go  on  the  steamer  to-morrow,"  said  Hawks. 
"  It  may  be  her  last  trip  for  the  season." 

''As  for  taking  that  woman  on  board.  Hawks,  that's 
out  of  the  question.  You  may  as  well  put  a  bullet 
through  her  head  at  once." 

"  Let  me  have  your  bill  in  the  morning,  Doctor.  How 
much  is  it  ?  " 


THE   STOR!\IY    PETREL.  65 

"  Ail  told,  two  hundred  dollars," 

"  Indeed  ?  So  much  ?  I  had  not  expected  it,"  said 
Hawks,  dryly." 

"  You  told  me  to  spare  no  pains,  time  or  money.  I 
have  called  in  two  of  our  best  physicians  in  consultation, 
and  for  the  last  few  days,  I  have  almost  lived  in  this  sick 


room 


"I'll  have  to  sell  a  nigger  to  get  the  money  to  pa\ 
you."  Hawks  reflected  a  moment,  ihen  said,  "  Doctor,  if 
you  will  pay  the  consulting  phvsicians  and  give  me  a 
receipted  bill  for  your  services,  I'll  give  you  a  bill-of-sale 
of  this  woman  and  let  you  cure  her,  if  you  can." 

"That's  a  bad  bargain,  "  responded  the  doctor,  "  but  if 
you  are  hard  up,  I'll  do  it  and  take  my  chances.'" 

So  the  necessary  papers  were  made  out  and  exchanged 
on  the  following  morning,  Hawks  going  south  on  the 
steamer,  and  Dr.  Elmore  redoubling  his  efforts  to  save 
his  property,  as  well  as  patient. 

The  ninth  day  had  come,  and  Dr.  Elmore  sat  watching 
Martha,  expecting  a  change,  and  hoping  for  a  favorable 
one.  A  more  quiet  state  of  mind  and  body  had  set  in  ; 
the  wandering  eyes  were  closed,  and  sleep  was  now  the 
last  hope. 

"Keep  her  perfectly  still,"  said  the  doctor  to  the 
nurse.  "If  she  wakes  again,  she  will  be  saved  ;  answer 
no  questions,  and  she  may  pull  through." 

At  the  expiration  of  three  hours,  the  eyes  of  the  sick 
woman  opened  wearily,  and  the  faint  light  in  the  room 
disclosed  the  strange  nurse. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  whispered  the  patient. 

"  Be  quiet,  child,  yous  bery  sick,  and  the  doctor  says 
you  don  mus  talk  any  ;  so  be  quiet,  honey." 

"Where  is  my  baby  ?  Bring  her  quick  or  I'll  get  up 
and  find  her  myself.  Oh,  I  had  such  a  dream  about  her. 
I  thought  she  was  lost  in  a  river  of  ragin  ice  !  " 

The  nurse  handed  her  the  old  bundle  that  had  deluded 
and  quieted  her  during  her  illness,  but  it  failed  of  its  pur- 
pose now.  In  great  excitement,  she  cast  it  from  her  and 
with  an  effort  to  rise,  fell  back  unconscious. 

Upon  the  doctor's  return,  he  gave  her  a  soothing 
draught,  and  again  she  slept  quietly. 

In  the  morning,  she  said  to  her  nurse  in  a  natural 
voice  : 


66  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

"  Where  is  my  baby,  and  where  am  I  ?  " 

"  Deed,  honey,  I  can't  tell  you  anyting.  Marsa 
doctor  done  gib  me  one  scorcher  for  lowin  yer  ter  talk 
yistidy." 

"But,  Auntie,  I  must  know  about  my  baby,"  said 
Martha.     "Tell  me,  is  she  safe  and  well?" 

Dr.  Elmore  came  lightly  into  the  room  just  at  that 
moment. 

"  She's  woke  up  all  right,  Doctor,"  said  the  nurse. 

"  Doctor,  where  is  my  baby .''  I  shall  die  if  vou  don't 
tell  me." 

"  You  are  too  weak  to  talk  now,  Martha," 

Martha  shuddered  and  put  up  her  hands  to  her 
head. 

"  O  my  God  !  "  she  said,  in  great  agitation  ;  "  I  remem- 
ber all,  now.     How  he  tossed  my  baby  into  the  water." 

"  Now  take  some  of  this  broth,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  I  will  talk  this  over  by-and-by." 

She  did  not  seem  to  hear  or  see  him  ;  her  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  some  imagined  scene.  "Oh,  it  all  comes 
back  now — the  river— the  floating  ice — my  baby  whirled 
through  the  air.  Somebody  on  the  shore  calling  and 
holding  out  his  arms — and  then,  all  is  blank — oh,  my 
God  I  my  God !  "  And  she  sank  back,  with  dry,  de- 
spairing eyes. 

"  Now,  Martha,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  see  how  it  was. 
You  fainted  and  thought  you  saw  your  baby  fall  into  the 
water.  I  warrant  it  is  safe,  and  I  will  make  an  effort  to 
get  it  for  you.  Take  this  broth  and  be  quiet,  so  you  may 
get  well." 

"Doctor,  I  don't  want  to  get  well;  I  want  to  die," 
said  the  girl,  closing  her  eyes,  but  taking  the  broth,  in 
obedience  to  the  doctor's  request. 

Dr.  Elmore  was  a  kind-hearted  man,  and  thought  very 
seriously  of  making  further  inquiries  into  the  story 
Martha  had  told  him  ;  but  second  thought  prfvailecl. 
"  She  is  likely  to  live,  and  I  won't  bother  with  the  busi- 
ness ;  I  may  get  into  trouble,  so  I'll  let  events  work 
themselves  out,"  he  thought  to  irimself. 

"How  is  your  white  elephant,  your  new  purchase?" 
said  the  doctor's  brother  at  dinner  that  day. 

Chester  Elmore  was  less  inclined  to  the  sentimental 
side  of  life  than  his  elder  brother,  the  doctor.     He  had 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  67 

been  to  see  Martha,  to  satisfy  himself  as  to  what  kind  of 
an  investment  his  brother  had  made  in  buying  "  a  half- 
dead  nigger,"  as  the  transaction  was  termed. 

Seeing  the  woman  with  a  fair  chance  of  recovery,  he  was 
now  feeling  his  way  to  a  purchase  if  he  could  get  a  bar- 
gain. He  was  a  bachelor,  living  with  his  mother  and  sis- 
ter, at  Independence  Missouri,  and  was  visiting  St.  Louis 
on  business. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  think  she'll  pull  through  and 
in  that  event,  I  have  made  a  thousand  dollars." 

''  How  much  did  you  pay,  Doc,"  persisted  the  brother. 

"  Let  me  see,  Chet.  My  bill  was  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars;  I  was  to  pay  consulting  physicians,  which 
was  fifty  dollars  extra." 

"When  Hawks  left  here,"  said  his  brother,  you 
thought  the  case  a  desperate  one ;  and  I  am  mistaken  if 
you  wouldn't  have  preferred  your  doctor's  bill  to  the  nig- 
ger." 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  would  not  take  two  or  three 
such  bills  to-day  for  her.  Now  get  her  well,  and  she  will 
bring  in  New  Orleans  fifteen  hundred,  easy." 

''  Provided,''  said  Chet,  "  you  could  find  a  fool  for  a 
customer;  one  who  had  more  money  than  brains.'' 

"Well,"  said  the  doctor,  "New  Orleans  has  a  double 
portion  of  such  fools." 

"  However  that  may  be,  her  talk  about  the  lost  baby 
shows  there  is  something  crooked  in  this  matter.  You 
may  get  into  trouble  yet.  You  know  Hawks — not  so 
well  as  I,  perhaps,  but  well  enough  to  be  on  your  guard. 
I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do; — pay  the  charges  and  give  you 
a  hundred  dollar  bill  and  take  my  chances." 

"No,  Chet,  I  won't  do  that  :  but  if  you'll  make  it  two 
hundred  it's  a  bargain,  for  she  would  suit  your  family 
better  than  mine." 

So  the  bargain  was  struck,  and  Martha  was  transferred  to 
Chester  Elmore  by  a  bill-of-sale  ;  and  in  the  course  of  two 
weeks  was  declared  well  enough  to  go  to  Independence, 
where  she  was  received  by  Miss  Gertrude  Elmore  as  a 
present  from  her  brother  Chester. 

Miss  Gertrude  was  a  highly  nervous  sentimental  young- 
woman,  very  romantic,  and  though  a  spoiled  child,  had 
never  been  indulged  in  a  waiting-maid ;  and  when 
"  Brother  Chet,"    as  she  called  him,  made  the  announce- 


(^S  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

ment  that  Martha's  duties  were  to  wait  on  her,  she  was 
profuse  in  her  thanks,  and  ordered  her  servant  at  once  to 
place  flowers  upon  the  mantel-piece,  with  the  air  of  a 
young  princess. 

Martha  entered  upon  the  discharge  of  her  new  duties 
with  a  heavy  heart,  for  though  she  had  told  Dr.  Elmore  the 
particulars  concerning  the  loss  of  her  baby,  she  could  give 
him  no  names  of  places,  nor  form  any  idea  of  how  far 
they  had  travelled.  The  world  had  been  a  blank  to  her 
since  swooning  on  the  river,  when  the  angry  ice  flood  had 
risen  up  and  (as  she  thought)  engulfed  her  child. 

Her  new  master  had  bid  her  abandon  the  foolish  hope 
inspired  by  his  brother  of  tracing  the  child.  So,  weak 
from  sickness,  with  a  hopeless  yearning  in  her  heart,  she 
performed  the  rounds  of  duty  like  an  automaton. 

Miss  Gertrude  was  informed  of  the  occurrences  of  the 
few  preceding  weeks  and  thought  it  "perfectly  horrid  " 
that  a  human  being  could  be  so  hard-hearted  and  cruel ; 
and  she  repeated  the  story  to  Sally  May,  her  dearest 
friend  and  companion. 

"Wouldn't  it  make  a  splendid  subject  for  a  novel, 
Sally  ? "  said  Gertrude  ;  and  taking  her  pen,  she  wrote  the 
headings  of  Martha's  narrative  down  as  nearly  as  possi- 
ble. 


CHAPTER  XIV.  ■ 

The  death  of  Harry  Barnes  very  nearly  proved  fatal  to 
his  mother.  He  was  her  adored  and  only  son,  and  every 
circumstance  attending  his  last  illness  was  so  terrible,  so 
mysterious,  that  it  seemed  as  if  her  life,  or  else  her  rea- 
son, must  succumb  to  the  blow.  She  had  not  even  the 
support  of  her  brother's  presence  at  this  awful  time,  as 
Dr.  Barnes,  the  day  after  his  nephew  had  left  him,  was 
thrown  from  his  carriage,  and  for  weary  months  afterwards 
was  laid  up  with  a  broken  leg. 

Owing  to  this  combination  of  circumstances,  a  long  time 
elapsed  before  the  brother  and  sister  met,  and  he  could 
only  administer  such  consolation  and  help  as  could  be 
conveyed  in  letters. 

At  last  she  yielded  to  his  earnest  solicitation  to  come 
to  Lucaston.  He  was  cut  to  the  heart  when  he  saw  the 
deep  lines  which  suffering  had  left  on  her  gentle  face. 
Her  heart  was  indeed  broken,  and  he  knew  not  how  to 
comfort  her.  He  tried  to  talk  to  her  of  indifferent  things, 
and  lead  her  mind  away  from  the  one  absorbing  sub- 
ject. 

"  I  forgot  to  inquire,"  said  the  doctor,  "  about  Martha  ; 
do  you  find  her  useful  ?  " 

Mrs.  Barnes  looked  at  her  brother  in  astonishment, 
and  said:   "  I  know  nothing  about  Martha." 

"  Not  know  ?     Did  not  Harry  explain  ?  " 

His  sister  looked  at  him  in  a  bewildered  way.  "I  do 
not  know  what  you  mean,"  she  said.  "  You  know  my 
poor  boy  never  said  anything  coherent ;  there  were  only 
strange,  disconnected  words.  But,  O  William,"  said 
she,  in  an  agony  of  recollection,  "they  will  ring  in  my 
ears  forever.  He  was  in  such  distress  about  something. 
What  was  it?  What  had  happened  to  my  poor  boy.'" 
And  convulsive  sobs  shook  her  frame. 

"There,  there,  dear  Lucy;  don't  think  about  it,"  said 
her  brother,  soothingly. 

"But  I  must  think  about  it;   I  can   never  forget  it  for 


70  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

one  moment.  William,"  she  said,  catching  her  broths 
er's  hand  eagerly,  "you  must  help  me  to  find  out  what  it 
was  that  killed  Harry;  for  I  tell  you  he  was  killed"  she 
said,  with  awful  emphasis,  "  murdered." 

"  Did  3'ou  find  nothing  of  my  letter,  with  the  bill-of- 
sale  to  you  ?  " 

"  Bill-of-sale  !  "  said  she,  bewildered.  "  I  have  had  no 
letter,  and  do  not  know  what  you  mean  by  a  bill-of-sale." 

"  My  God !"  said  tlie  doctor,  "  what  does  all  this 
mean  ?  " 

Dr.  Barjies  then  related  all  the  circumstances  attend- 
ing the  sending  of  Martha  and  her  child  with  a  bill-of- 
sale  to  be  filled  out  with  his  sister's  name  if  she  con- 
sented to  take  the  slave. 

"I  remember,"  said  he,  "how  well  Harry  was  looking 
when  he  boarded  the  steamer.  Let  me  see — was  it  the 
'Scott'?  I  must  lose  no  time  in  learning  from  the  cap- 
tain all  we  can  relative  to  the  disappearance  of  the 
woman.  There  is  something  wrong  about  the  matter, 
and  I  shall  leave  no  stone  unturned  until  the  mystery  is 
solved." 

At  the  next  trip  of  the  steamer  "  Scott,"  Dr.  Barnes 
called  at  the  office  and  inquired  for  Captain  Swan.  The 
clerk  was  summoned,  and  the  passenger  record,  upon 
careful  search  showed  that,  on  a  certain  night  of  that 
year,  there  were  transferred  from  the  Clermont  to  the 
"Scott"  by  running  alongside,  a  woman  and  child  and 
one  cabin  passenger  named  Thomas  Hawks  from  New 
Orleans. 

"  I  know  Hawks  well,"  said  Captain  Swan.  "A  bold, 
vicious  man." 

"Yes,"  said  Dr.  Barnes,  "this  man  Hawks  came  to 
Lucaston  with  Harry  on  his  last  visit,  and  they  took  the 
same  boat  for  Louisville.  I  will  go  to  New  Orleans  and 
search  for  him.  I'll  go  down  with  you,  Captain  Swan,  on 
your  return  trip,  and  in  the  mean  time,  we  will  think  over 
the  best  plan  of  procedure." 

A  few  days  later.  Dr.  Barnes  stepped  on  board  the 
steamer  "  Scott  "  on  her  down  trip  to  New  Orleans  and 
was  welcomed  by  the  captain. 

"Then  you  have  decided  to  go  down  and  search  for 
Hawks  ?  "  said  the  latter. 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  7 1 

"  Yes,  Captain,  and  I  shall  need  your  services  if  we 
find  him." 

Arrived  at  New  Orleans,  both  men  made  diligent 
inquiry  in  every  quarter  that  Hawks  frequented,  but  no 
trace  could  be  found  of  him.  The  detectives  were  put  to 
work,  but  with  no  better  success,  so  that  after  an  absence 
of  two  weeks.  Dr.  Barnes  returned  to  Lucaston,  disheart- 
ened, but  feeling  impelled  forward  in  this  search,  that 
must  not  stop  short  of  success. 


CHAPTER  XV.. 

Upon  Tom  Hawks'  arrival  at  New  Orleans,  lie  dis- 
posed of  his  slaves  to  Colonel  Ray,  one  of  his  old  cus- 
tomers, who  said  finall}' : 

"Well,  Hawks,  you  have  disappointed  me  in  not  bring- 
ing that  woman  you  wrote  me  of;  and  from  your 
description,  1  had  expected  to  see  something  extra  nice. 
How  did  it  happen,  anyway  ?  " 

"Oh,  d — nit,  I  didn't  write  you  anything  about  the 
baby  she  had ;  and  in  getting  rid  of  that,  I  lost  both. 
After  the  child  had  gone,  the  woman,  like  a  fool,  raved, 
took  fever,  and  I  suppose  is  dead  before  now."  Then 
Hawks  gave  his  own  brutal  version  of  the  story  of 
Martha,  and  how  he  had  disposed  of  the  child  and  its 
mother. 

After  he  had  concluded.  Colonel  Ray  remarked  rather 
dryly : 

"  I  think  you  acted  like  a  d d  fool,  in  giving  away 

both  mother  and  child.  Take  my  advice,  now,  retrace 
your  steps,  and  try  to  recover  both." 

"No  need  of  immediate  action  in  regard  to  the  woman. 
Doctor  Elmore  is  an  old  acquaintance,  and  if  she's  alive,  I 
can  reclaim  her  at  a  fair  price  any  time.  And  as  for  the 
child,  I  don't  think.  Colonel,  the  game  is  worth  the  pow- 
der." 

"A  girl  did  you  say?  Take  my  advice  and  go  back 
to  St.  Charles  and  pick  up  those  dropped  stitches  in  your 
work,  so  that  you  may  at  least  make  a  finished  job  of 
it." 

"You  attach  too  much  importance  to  this  matter,  Col- 
onel, but  I'll  think  of  it.  Now,  let's  have  something  to 
drink,"  and  the  two  men  strolled  away  to  the  spacious 
and  elegant  bar-room  of  the  St,  Charles  Hotel. 

Hawks  had  been  drinking  very  heavily  ever  since 
Harry  Barnes'  death,  and  now  celebrated  his  meeting 
with  Ray  with  double  quantity  in  his  potations.  His 
tongue  began  to  feel  the  loosening  effects  of  the  stimulants. 


THE    STORMY    TETREr,.  73 

"  By  G — d  !  "  he  said,  '"  Ray,  that  was  the  sharpest 
game  I've  played  yet."  And  then  he  gave  his  friend  the 
particulars  of  the  whole  transaction  on  board  the 
"  Clermont." 

Ray's  face  grew  dark  as  he  listenetl.  "  Hawks," 
said  he,  at  last,  "\ou  must  take  care;  you  are  talking 
very  imprudently,  and  if  you  have  done  all  }  ou  say.  why, 
I  advise  you  to  skip." 

Hawks  was  sobered  in  a  moment.  "  \\'hat  do  }ou 
n)ean  .-'"  said  he. 

"Why,  just  this:  Now, — suppose  inquiry  was  made 
for  the  woman  and  child  ;  they  are  known  to  have  been 
on  the  steamer  in  the  custody  of  your  friend  Barnes  and 
yourself.  He  returns  home  in  delirium:  dies,  I  think 
you  said,  without  recovering  consciousness.  Suspicion 
of  foul  play  will  rest  on  you,  to  whom  they  can  be  traced, 
and  an  ugly  trial  may  ensue." 

"  But,  d — n  it,  Ray,  you  must  remember  the  bill-of- 
sale  is  regularly  executed,  and  if  Harry  Barnes  saw  fit  to 
gamble,  lose,  and  I  win  them,  there  is  nothing  wrong,  or 
at  least  criminal  in  that." 

"  But  the  transfer  is  illegal  if  the  owners  chose  to 
question  the  transaction;  besides,  the  drug  you  used  will 
leave  a  trace,  that  is,  if  search  were  made.  To  be  sure, 
I  understand  that  in  moderate  quantities  there  is  no 
danger,  yet  in  larger  doses,  it  is  attended  with  fatal 
results ;  and  how  do  you  know  that  an  overdose  was  not 
administered.'  I  also  notice  that  your  name  and  the 
amount  here  are  filled  in  with  a  different  handwriting,  ' 
and  he  pointed  to  the  paper  Hawks  held  in  his  hand. 
"  No,  by  Jove,  if  it  isn't  your  own  hand !  Why,  man,  what 
are  you  thinking  of?  That,  in  connection  with  Harry 
Barnes'  suspicious  death,  would  make  an  ugly  case  for 
you." 

Hawks  sat  with  lips  compressed,  silent  for  a  moment. 
Then  he  said,  angrily  :  '"  Look  here,  we've  had  enough 
of  this  now.  In  the  tirst  place,  Barnes  wrote  there  what 
you  ascribe  to  me,  and  you  convict  me  of  murder  and 
theft  by  your  suppositions." 

"No,  no,  Hawks;  1  am  not  trying  to  convict  you  of 
anything;  I  only  want  you  to  see  the  thing  in  its  true 
light.  Of  course  inquiries  will  be  made  about  this 
woman   and    child.     They  can    easily  be   traced  to  you. 


74  THE    STORMY    PETRET,. 

Coupled  with  Barnes"  death,  it  has  an  unpleasant  look  to 
me,  and  my  motive  is  to  have  you  see  it  in  its  true  light. 
I'm  your  friend,  old  fellow,"  said  he,  putting  his  hand 
on  Hawks'  arm.     "  You  may  count  on  me  every  time." 

"  Well,  what  would  you  do  ? "  asked  Hawks,  quite 
humbled  and  subdued. 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'd  do  :  I'd  keep  bhady  in 
these  parts  while  you  must  be  here  ;  put  on  a  planter's 
disguise,  go  to  Missouri  and  get  trace  of  the  woman  and 
baby,  and  you  may  also  get  information  of  your  own  case, 
for  you  will  certainly  be  searched  for  here." 

"'Well,  I'll  think  of  it,"  said  Hawks,  indifferently. 
But  he  had  secretly  resolved  he  would  do  it,  and  from 
that  night,  the  haunts  he  was  wont  to  frequent  knew  him 
no  more  for  a  long  time. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"Kansas  City,  Mo.,  May  15,  185-. 

"  My  Dear  Kate  : 

"Anticipating  your  surprise  at  the  above,  I  will  try 
to  tell  you  briefly  how  it  is  that  I  am  here. 

"  While  visiting  my  Colonists,  a  few  weeks  ago,  Sam, 
whom,  of  course,  you  remember,  was  kidnapped  in  open 
day,  by  some  ruffians,  and  forcibly  carried  away.  I  was 
able  to  trace  them  as  far  as  Booneville,  where  I  learned 
the  poor  fellow  had  been  sold  to  a  gentleman  owning 
a  large  stock-farm.  Of  course  misleading  clues  were 
plentifully  scattered  upon  the  trail  by  the  miscreants,  so 
that  I  lost  much  time  in  my  pursuit ;  but,  through  the 
aid  of  an  extraordinarily  clever  fellow  it  has  been  my 
good  fortune  to  meet  and  imj^ress  into  my  service,  I 
think  we  are  now  on  the  right  road  and  not  far  from  the 
object  of  our  search,  that  the  gentleman  who  purchased 
him  is,  in  fact,  a  resident  of  Missouri,  and,  through  the 
aid  of  Mr.  Duvall,  I  hope  soon  to  find  him.  What  we 
are  to  do  then,  I  cannot  yet  see  very  clearly,  as  I  suppose 
there  is  no  place  on  this  planet  where  justice  is  so  diffi- 
cult to  obtain  to-day  as  in  this  perturbed  border  State. 
It  would  be  impossible  to  imagine  a  more  strangely 
disordered  condition  of  society  than  exists  here  now. 

"  Colonel  Gordon,  a  Southern  gentleman  of  swelling  pre- 
tensions, who  is  here  on  a  singular  and  questionable  mis- 
sion, has  taken  me  under  his  distinguished  protection 
because  of  my  Kentucky  birth,  forsooth  !  In  fact,  but  for 
his  intervention,  I  doubt  if  his  followers  would  have  per- 
mitted Duvall  and  me  to  land  at  all.  It  is  surprising 
that  a  gentleman,  such  as  he  unquestionably  is,  can 
have  gathered  about  him  such  a  band  of  miscreants  as 
the  fellows  who  actually  took  possession  of  the  steamer 
on  which  I  came  to  this  city.  They  inspected  the  bag- 
gage, and  if  they  found  arms  in  the  possession  of  North- 
erners, they  were  confiscated,  and  the  owners  told  they 


76  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

would  be  shot  if  they  attempted  to  land  on  Kansas  soil. 
The  method  of  inspection  was,  to  say  the  least,  original. 
After  being  saturated  with  bad  whiskey,  they  fired  pistols 
in,to  suspicious  packages,  then  broke  them  open,  and 
threw  their  contents  into  the  river,  or  appropriated  them 
as  suited  them.  Colonel  Gordon,  when  appealed  to, 
frankly  confessed  his  inability  to  hold  in  check  the  pande- 
monium he  had  invoked,  which  was  about  at  its  height 
when  we  approached  Kansas  City,  and  Captain  Jim,  Col- 
onel Gordon's  lieutenant,  ordered  four  men  with  revolvers 
to  stand  at  the  gang-plank,  and  prevent  any  one  from 
landing  who  was  not  vouched  for  by  himself, 

"  You  may  imagine  that  Duvall  and  I  were  challenged, 
and  I  cannot  tell  how  it  might  have  ended  had  not 
Colonel  Gordon  interposed;  and  after  a  whispered 
conference  we  were  permitted  to  pass  with  our  luggage. 
For  the  sake  of  the  success  of  my  own  mission  here, 
I  submit  to  this  'protection,'  and  have  not  let  the 
colonel  find  out  what  a  political  renegade  I  am,  from 
his  standpoint,  nor  in  what  contempt  and  loathing  I 
hold  the  methods  he  and  his  band  of  followers  are 
using  to  capture  this  territory  of  Kansas  for  their  iniqui- 
tous system. 

"  Duvall  has  to  hold  me  in  check  all  the  time  to  prevent 
me  from,  exploding  with  wrath  and  indignation ;  and 
nothing  but  the  thought  of  poor  Sam  restrains  me.  But 
this  matter  once  settled,  I  shall  soon  tear  off  my  mask, 
and  cast  my  lot  where  my  inclinations  and  my  convic- 
tions lead  me. 

"  I  have  met  a  singular  and  most  impressive  man, — a 
man  with  a  mingled  suggestion  of  priest,  prophet  and 
king.  If  these  were  heroic  times,  I  should  expect  him 
to  fill  a  great  rblc\  but  the  age  is  prosaic,  as  is  his  name, 
— John  Brown.  Yes,  I  confess  it  is  not  easy  to  invest 
that  name  with  sublimity. 

"  I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you  something  about  my  friend 
Claude  Duvall,  to  whom  I  have  so  frequently  alluded. 
He  is  a  foreigner,  Italian,  but  thoroughly  at  home  and 
conversant  with  things  in  America.  He  is  accomplished, 
brilliant,  versatile,  vivacious,  with  wonderful  charm  of 
manner  and  person,  and  better  than  all,  with  a  heart 
ardent  as  a  child's,  I  think  he  is  especially  delightful  to 
me  because  he  possesses  all  the  qualities  I  lack  ;  and  I  am 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  77 

most  fortunate  in  having  so  sympathetic  and  congenial  a 
friend  and  co-operator  in  this  search.  Although  the  soul 
of  truth,  his  tact,  skill,  feriilit}^  in  resource  are  unfailing. 
He  does  not  carry  his  heart  upon  his  sleeve;  has,  in  fact, 
a  talent  for  diplomacy,  which,  perhaps  you  remember,  is 
7iot  my  forte.  He  S3inpathizes  with  my  feeling  about 
human  freedom  and  such  kindred  subjects,  but  naturally 
does  not  take  it  so  much  to  heart  as  I  do,  and,  I  think, 
perhaps,  is  more  impelled  by  a  feeling  personal  to  me 
than  by  any  sentiment  more  abstract. 

"Regarding  himself,  he  is  reticent;  so  that  I  do  not 
understand  at  all  his  mission  in  America,  nor  why  he  has 
been  willing  to  follow  my  fortunes  (or  rather  misfortunes) 
during  all  these  past  four  years.  Chance  threw  us 
together  shortly  after  that  strange  and  still  unexplained 
incident,  the  finding  of  Petrel.  He  has  shown  great 
adroitness  in  his  efforts  to  unearth  the  myster}',  and  is 
much  chagrined  that  he  has  not  yet  been  successful ;  and 
we  are  as  far  as  ever  from  knowing  the  fate  of  the 
woman,  presumably  her  mother.  It  is  a  strange  story — 
but,  in  the  mean  time,  the  little  girl  is  happy  and  well 
cared  for  at  the  Colony,  which  seems  the  best  place  for 
her  at  present. 

"Will  you  present  my  compliments  to  the  fair  Kttle  maid 
who  bears  your  name,  and  who,  I  hope,  will  inherit  at 
least  a  portion  of  her  mother's  virtues  ?  I  havfe  not  yet 
become  accustomed  to  thinking  of  you  in  this  new  role, 
my  sweet  cousin  ;  but  I  am  sure  you  fill  it,  as  you  have  all 
others,  with  rare  perfection.  At  least,  such  is  the  belief 
of 

"Your  admiring  and  very  affectionate  cousin, 

"  Frank." 

Frank  was  not  mistaken.  He  was  near  the  object  of 
his  search.  A  camp-meeting  was  held  at  Big  Springs 
Camp  Ground,  and,  knowing  the  custom  of  Southern  peo- 
ple to  carry  their  servants  to  these  meetings,  and  the  habits 
of  the  slaves  on  Sunday  to  congregate  in  large  numbers 
about  the  grounds,  he  suggested  to  Duvall  that  they 
should  ride  over  there  from  Kansas  City. 

In  strolling  about,  they  came  upon  a  group  of  three 
persons  conversing,  in  a  small  grove,  some  distance  from 
the    central    grounds.     Clayton    felt    strongly    impressed 


78  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

by  the  vicious-looking  trio,  and  was  observing  them 
closely  when  Duvall  said, 

"  Did  you  notice  the  old  negro  the  young  men  were 
talking  to  there  ?  He  sits  bowed  over,  with  his  head  on 
his  hands." 

After  the  men  left  him,  Clayton  approached  the  bowed 
figure,  and  said, 

"  Are  you  sick,  old  man  ?  " 

The  man  sprung  up  as  if  struck  by  an  electric  shock. 

"  Bless  de  Lor'  !  Dat  bin  Mars  Frank's  voice.  Whar 
is  yer,  Mars  Frank,  whar  is  yer  ?  Let  dese  eyes  behol' 
yer  once  mo'  !  "  And,  standing  almost  as  tall  as  his  young 
master,  he  grasped  the  extended  hand  of  Cla^'lon  and  cov- 
ered it  with  kisses.  At  the  same  time  falling  on  his 
knees,  he  bowed  his  head  to  the  very  earth,  saying, 
"  Tank  de  Lor' !  Tank  de  Lor'  !  He  done  foun'  dis 
poor  slave  to  libber  him  outer  bondage." 

Clayton,  who  was  nearly  as  much  moved  as  his  old 
slave,  lifted  him  up,  and  said  soothingly  : 

"Come,  come,  Sam,  rise  up.  I  am  glad  at  last  to  find 
you,  as  I  have  sought  you  faithfully  for  months." 

"  Dar,  Mars  Frank,  I  knowed  you  was  a  lookin'  in 
ebery  hole  and  corner  for  dis  ole  nigger;  dat  war  de 
star  ob  hope  I  hung  onto  when  eberyting  else  looked 
dark.  I  jis  said  to  mysef,  'Mars  Frank  he  knowed  dese 
foxes  what  steals  niggers,  an'  he's  gwineter  foller  der 
tracks." 

"  Tell  me,  Sam,  how  you  came  here,  and  whom  you  are 
living  with  ?  " 

Clayton  learned  from  his  old  servant  that  he  had 
been  bought  by  a  man  named  Skinner,  living  near  Big 
Springs -in  Missouri.  Sam  told  the  story  of  his  being  kid- 
napped at  the  Landing,  and  being  knocked  down  and 
taken  into  a  boat  by  four  men,  one  of  whom  seemed  to 
be  the  leader,  and  was  Sam  Sly,  of  Lucaston.  He  had 
mistaken  Sam  for  Uncle  Ned. 

"Yes,"  said  Clayton.  "He  and  Sparks  consider  them- 
selves revenged  now.  But  this  is  not  ended  yet  ;  they 
will  hear  from  me  again." 

Clayton  had  seated  himself  upon  the  rustic  bencli 
beside  his  old  servant,  but  Duvall's  'quick  eye  detected 
danger  in  a  sinister-looking  man  who  was  watching  them. 

"  Dat  is  young  Mars  Skinner  hissef,"  said  Sam. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  79 

Clayton  gave  a  parting  injunction  to  Sam  to  keep  quiet 
about  their  meeting,  and  if  questioned,  to  say  only  that 
he  was  an  old  acquaintance. 

Poor  Sam's  face  fell  in  disappointment,  as  he  saw  his 
master  leave  him. 

"  Dar  now,  de  sun  done  set  again.  Does  seem  as  do 
Mars  Frank  oughter  took  Sam  'long  wid  him,"  But  he 
rightly  suspected  that  he  would  not  be  deserted  by  him. 

After  arriving  at  home  that  night,  Sam  was  questioned 
by  his  new  master  as  to  whom  he  was  talking  with  so 
earnestly  down  near  the  Springs. 

"  Dat  was  Mars  Clayton.  He  comes  from  de  same 
part  ob  ole  Kaintuck  what  Sam  did.  Brass  yer  life, 
Mars  William,  'twcJuld  do  yer  eyes  good  ter  see  dem 
folks  what  lib  in  ole  Kaintucky!  " 

"  Well,  never  mind  about  that,  now,  Sam  ;  I  am  going 
to  my  claim  in  Kansas  to-morrow,  and  I  want  my  horse 
in  readiness  early,  as  Mr.  Livingstone  and  Bill  Hart  are 
going  also.  Look  to  my  pistols  and  shot-gun.  I  notice 
they're  rusting.  Is  there  one  of  the  loose  horses  up 
from  the  pasture,  Sam  ? "' 

"Yes,  sah,  dar's  Charley  and  Wil'  Injin.  " 

"  Well,  you  see  that  both  horses  are  fed  early,  and 
taken  good  care  of." 

"Yes,  sah,  I'se  gwinter  do  dat." 

Sam  stood  looking  after  his  master,  and  saying  to  him- 
self: 

"  I  hope  Mars  William's  not  gwinter  ax  me  to  go  out 
dar  to  dat  dar  place  what  he  call 'claim'  whar  dey  all 
meets  ter  drink  whiskey  and  kill  ablition  yankees.  I 
done  had  'nough  ob  dat ;  an'  I  wants  ter  see  what  Mars 
P'rank  gwinter  do  ter  take  Sam  back." 

"  Sam,"  said  William  Skinner,  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, while  inspecting  his  pistol,  "  I  want  you  to  saddle 
Charley  and  go  with  me  out  to  the  claim  directly  after 
breakfast.  You  need  not  say  where  you  are  going. 
Mend  that  girth  to  my  saddle,  and  see  that  my  bridle  is 
all  right,  for  I'm  not  ready  to  go  to  heaven  by  a  somer- 
sault over  Wild  Indian's  head." 

Sam's  worst  fears  were  now  being  confirmed  ;  and  it 
was  with  a  heavy  heart  that  he  completed  the  preparation. 

"  I  doe  like  ter  know,  Sam,  what  makes  yo  face  so  much 
longer  dan  usual  dis  mawniu'  ?  "  inquired  the  old  cook, 


8o  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

as  Sam's  appetite,  hitherto  excellent,  seemed  entirely  to 
fail  him  at  breakfast.  He  had  previously  told  Aunt 
Hannah  his  story,  and  now  an  idea  occurred  to  him  that 
she  would  be  sure  to  see  any  one  who  came  to  see  the 
}0ung  master  on  business.  So  he  confided  to  her  his 
meeting  his  former  master  and  friend  at  camp-meeting 
the  day  before,  and  his  belief  that  an  effort  was  to  be 
made  to  recover  his  liberty.  He  described  his  young 
master;  and  told  her  if  he  should  come  to  the  house,  she 
was  to  tell  him  privately  where  Sam  had  gone,  and 
where  young  Skinner's  claim  was  located. 

In  the  afternoon,  three  gentlemen  rode  up  to  the  house 
of  Mr.  Skinner,  dismounted  and  walked  in.  Aunt  Han- 
nah was  on  the  lookout,  and  recognized  Clayton  at  a 
glance.     As  they  were  about  to  enter,  she  said  to  him  : 

"  Young  Mars  looks  as  do  he's  tired,  an'  like  he  wants 
dis  good  drink  ob  nice  cool  water,"  holding  it  toward  him 
from  the  bucket.  He  stepped  to  where  she  was,  and  as 
he  took  the  gourd  she  told  him  in  an  undertone,  where 
Sam  had  been  taken  and  how  he  could  reach  the 
claim. 

On  inquiring  of  the  elder  Skinner,  he  could  give  no  in- 
formation of  his  son  Bill's  movements.  He  might  be  at 
Independence,  or  down  to  the  camp-meeting.  Skinner 
recognized  the  officer  with  Clayton,  and  said  : 

"I  hope  Bill  hasn't  been  getting  into  trouble  down  at 
the  Springs?  " 

"Oh,  no,"  said  D^ivall,  "our  business  can  wait  until  he 
returns,"  and  they  took  their  leave. 

Skinner,  attended  by  Sam,  and  accompanied  by  two 
visiting  friends.  Hart  and  Livingstone,  started  for  the 
claim  or  settlement.  He  related  to  them  what  he  had 
seen  at  the  camp-meeting;  and  ended  by  saying  that  as 
a  precautionary  measure,  he  was  bringing  Sam  where  no 
legal  process  could  reach  him. 

"  He  would  have  to  make  a  mighty  strong  case  out 
there  to  get  his  man,"  said  Hart,  significantly  pointing  to 
the  revolver.  "  He  would  have  to  beat,  not  only  two 
'  pairs,'  but  three  of  them  ;   eh,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Damn  the  law  !  "  said  Livingstone,  "  There  oughtn't 
to  be  any  law.  The  weak  are  made  to  serve  the  strong  in 
the  same  manner  that  the  little  fish  serve  the  big  ones. 


THE   STORMY   PETREL,  8 1 

the  bugs  the  birds,  the  birds  the  hawks,  and  they  in  turn 
serve  us.  I'd  like  to  keep  outside  the  law  "and  its 
restraints." 

Thus  the  trio  chatted  during  their  ride,  keeping  Sam  at 
a  safe  distance  in  their  rear. 

After  leaving  the  house  of  Mr.  Skinner,  the  officer  said, 
"  Mr.  Clayton,  my  functions  end  at  the  state  line  of  Mis- 
souri. Any  time  you  come  within  this  jurisdiction,  I'll 
serve  the  process,  or  a  new  one,  if  this  expires." 

"  I  must  find  the  man,"  said  Clayton,  "and  trust  to  cir- 
cumstances to  get  him  within  jurisdiction  of  the  law.  I 
will  ,ask  that  this  matter  have  as  little  notoriety  as 
possible." 

So  they  separated,  the  officer  going  to  Independence 
and  Clayton  to  Kansas  City.  He  now  felt  assured  that 
young  Skinner  knew  or  suspected  Sam's  status,  and  in 
that  lay  his  danger. 

After  consultation,  it  was  decided  that  Clayton  and 
Duvall  should  each  buy  a  butternut  disguise  and  an  outfit 
for  camp  life  or  "taking  a  claim,"  and  follow,  as  nearly 
as  possible,  the  fortunes  of  Sam,  led  as  h^was,  by  the  trio 
of  reckless  men.  Skinner,  Bill  Hart  and  Livingstone. 

The  following  day  they  left  Kansas  City  with  a  covered 
wagon,  two  good  horses  attached,  a  negro  driver,  and  each 
mounted,  armed  and  equipped  in  appropriate  style. 

A  week  later  found  them  located  on  a  high  plateau  of 
ground  near  the  now  thriving  city  of  Lawrence,  overlook- 
ing the  valley  of  the  Waurarusa  and  the  Kansas  River  for 
some  miles  away  to  the  south  and  to  the  east,  and  about 
ten  miles  from  Lecompton,  near  which  was  then  Camp 
Gordon,  in  honor  of  our  steamboat  acquaintance.  Colonel 
Gordon. 

To  this  latter  point  had  Clayton  traced  William  Skin- 
ner and  his  companions  with  Sam.  The  staking  off  of 
their  claims  was  done  in  the  usual  way,  which  was  only  a 
loose  formality;  for  very  few  of  the  men  who  came  from 
Missouri  ever  expected  to  return  to  these  claims  after  the 
vexed  question  of  slavery  in  Kansas  was  settled  under 
squatter  sovereignty. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  election  which  was  to  be  held  in  November,  185-, 
was  an  important  event  not  only  in  Kansas  and  Missouri, 
but  for  the  whole  country,  North  and  South,  East  and 
West,  being  interested ;  for  it  was  not  only  to  select  a 
Territorial  legislature  and  local  officers,  but  to  determine 
directly  the  question  of  slavery  or  freedom  on  the  soil 
now  neutral. 

If  slavery,  by  such  means  as  we  have  seen  at  Kansas 
City  and  Camp  Gordon,  can  extend  and  occupy  Kansas, 
then  Nebraska,  Minnesota,  and  the  western  territories 
would  be  an  easy  prey. 

In  great  contrast  to  those  at  Camp  Gordon  were  the 
settlements  at  Lawrence,  Topeka,  and  other  points  in  that 
section.  In  these  latter  places  were  seen  women  and 
children,  cattle,  farming  implements,  and  all  the  parapher- 
nalia pertaining  to  agricultural  life,  none  of  which  were 
noticeable  in  the  other  settlements.  Most  of  the  settlers 
were  Northern  or  Eastern  people,  as  distinctly  sectional 
and  as  outspoken  against  slavery  as  the  others  were  its 
advocates,  but  with  much  more  of  the  permanency  of 
citizenship,  which  gave  the  right  of  voice  in  controlling  the 
question. 

A  few  days  later  there  rode  up  to  the  rude  shanty 
Clayton  and  his  companions  had  erected,  five  men,  and, 
without  ceremony  or  parley,  the  leader  proceeded  to 
inform  the  gentlemen  that  there  now  remained  but  a 
few  days  before  the  election  and  it  had  been  determined 
to  make  quick  work  in  driving  away  from  the  settlement, 
any  and  every  man  who  was  going  to  vote  against  the 
institution  of  slavery  in  Kansas,  and  all  must  come  for- 
ward and  bear  a  part,  as  there  was  considerable  terri- 
tory to  be  visited. 

"  We  are  expected,"  he  said,  "  to  clean  out  two  d d 

Yankee  settlements  just  below,  and  ail  will  be  needed, 
for  they  have  already  defied  the  written  notice  served 
several  days  ago." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  8;^ 

Clayton  arose  from  his  seat,  evidently  to  enter  his 
indignant  protest,  when  Claude  said  : 

"  Allow  nie  to  speak  first.  I  intend  to  vote  for  Kansas 
to  be  a  slave  State.  I  shall  vote  in  good  faith.  I  am  a 
Southern  man,  in  favor  of  extending  the  institution,  but 
not  by  such  means." 

"  You  then  decline  to  join  us  in  j^reventing  these 
Yankee  paupers  from  stealing  Kansas .''  "  said  Livingstone, 
fiercely. 

"Yes,"  said  Clayton,  stepping  forward,  "we  most 
respectfull}'  decline  to  engnge  in  this  business,  either 
before  or  at  the  elections,  as  1  understand  the  game  is  to 
prevent  any  one  from  voting  who  will  not  vote  your 
ticket." 

"  Sir,"  said  Livingstone,  eying  him  with  ill-suppressed 
rage,  "  I  hope  you  mean  no  disrespect  in  referring  to  this 
matter  with  such  accent  on  'game.'  " 

"  Nothing  more,  sir,  than  to  call  things  by  their  right 
names." 

"Oh,  sir,  we  understand  each  other.  I  expected  noth- 
ing more  of  you,  but  we  are  disappointed  in  your  com- 
panion. Now  we  would  not  be  surpiised  to  find  you  in 
the  Yankee  camp  when  the  conflict  comes,  as  it  seems 
likely  to." 

"They  are  our  neighbors  here,  and  we  would  be 
hardly  deserving  the  name  if  we  should  refuse  to  help 
them  defend  their  homes  against  such  a  wanton  outrage 
as  you  propose.  Yes,  I  think  you  may  calculate  on  find 
ing  us  standing  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  them  in 
defence  of  our  common  rights  as  American  citizens." 

"  I  have  a  damn  big  notion  to  take  you  prisoners  to 
Colonel  Gordon,  and  thus  prevent  you  from  going  to  the 
enemy." 

"It  might  be  well  to  count  the  cost  before  you  under- 
take such  a  task,  sir."  And  at  the  same  time  Clayton 
imitated  Claude  in  buckling  on  his  revolvers  and  picking 
up  his  rifle.  Both  had  observed  Livingstone  nod  to  his 
men,  who  turned  their  horses  and  came  to  his  side. 

"Now,  gentlemen,"  said  Livingstone,  "you  can  see  the 
utter  folly  of  two  of  you  contending  against  five  of  us.  I 
have  onlv  to  say  the  word  and  you  either  surrender  or 
die." 

Clayton  and  Claude,    as   if   with  one  thought,   sprang 


84  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

inside  the  log  cabin  and  barred  the  door.  Then,  thrust- 
ing the  muzzles  of  their  rifles  out  of  the  cracks,  they 
said  : 

"  Give  the  order,  and  take  the  consequences  !  " 

"  Hold  on  ! "  yelled  Livingstone,  dumfounded  by  the 
unexpected  turn  affairs  had  taken  ;  and  with  a  sickly 
smile,  which  was  meant  to  be  conciliatory,  he  added, 
"  1  was  only  joking  with  you  and  trying  a  little  bluff. 
Come,  come,  let  us  talk  the  thing  over  in  a  friendly 
spirit.     Open  your  liospitable  doors  and  come  out." 

Clayton  said,  "  Now,  sir,  you  and  your  squad  have  just 
five  minutes  to  get  out  of  range  of  these  Sharp's 
rifles." 

*'  I  be  dogone  if  'tain't  one  of  'em,  Cap'n.  Yes,  Cap'n, 
it's  one  of  them  damnation  '  Beecher  Bibles,'  sure  as 
fallin'  off  a  log.  We'd  better  git,"  said  two  of  the  men, 
almost  in  the  same  voice  ;  and,  without  waiting  for  fur- 
ther orders,  both  of  them  wheeled  their  horses,  and  were 
soon  out  of  sight. 

Clayton  now  unfastened  the  door,  and  stepped  out,  say- 
ing : 

"  Our  numbers  are  more  equal  now.  I  guess  we  don't 
need  the  blockhouse."  At  the  same  time  taking  out  his 
watch,  he  continued:  "You  have  only  two  minutes  of 
your  allotted  five  in  which  to  get  out  of  range  of  this 
rifle." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  execute  that  threat  made  in 
anger  ?  " 

"  If  you  are  not  out  of  sight  within  five  minutes,  you 
will  find  we  did  mean  it,"  said  Clayton,  with  an  unmistak- 
able determination  in  his  eye. 

The  two  men  who  had  stood  by  Livingstone,  like  their 
companions,  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  while  Livingstone 
moved  off  sullenly,  swearing  loudly  for  revenge. 

"  Now,"  said  Clayton  to  his  servant,  "  bring  my  horse 
quickly  ! "  And  turning  to  his  friend,  "  You  get  ever\'- 
thing  in  readiness  to  move  down  to  Lawrence.  This 
is  no  safe  place  for  us  over-night.  Livingstone  had  mur- 
der in  his  eye  when  he  left  here.  I  am  going  to  ride  up 
to  the  trail  on  the  bluff,  and  see  where  those  fellows 
are." 

Two  hours  later,  when  he  returned,  the  wagon  was 
loaded  with  everything,  in  readiness  to  move.     Clayton 


THE    STOR^rV    PETREL.  85 

and  his  companion  mounted  their  horses,  and  were 
followed  by  the  wagon. 

"I  am  really  attached  to  this  spot,"  said  Clayton, 
"and  I  intend  to  have  that  claim,  which  was  only  staked 
off  as  a  matter  of  form,  to  be  my  abiding-place.  Our 
reception  of  Gordon's  men  now  cuts  us  off  from  Sam  and 
any  means  of  information  of  his  master's  movements. 
That  is  my  chief  regret." 

Clayton  and  Duvall  soon  reached  the  little  settlement 
of  Lawrence,  on  the  bank  of  the  Kansas  River. 

They  rode  into  the  town,  dismounted,  and  as  their 
team  drove  up,  several  of  the  settlers  crowded  curiously 
about  them. 

A  large  man,  w'ith  piercing,  deep-set  eyes,  severe  brow 
and  commanding  presence,  approached  them. 

'•  I  hope  you  are  not  leaving  us,  Mr.  Clayton  ?  "  said  he, 
extending  his  hand  to  Frank. 

"  No,  indeed,  Mr.  Brown,"  replied  Frank,  flushing  with 
gratification  at  the  warmth  of  this  welcome  ;  "  no,  indeed  ; 
so  far  from  that,  I  have  come  to  stay  with  you,  if  you  will 
permit." 

The  large  hand  grasped  his  with  a  stronger  pressure. 
"  You  are  most  welcome,  sir;  it  is  such  men  as  you  that 
we  want  here." 

"  Well,"  said  Frank,  laughing,  "  they  were  not  espe- 
cially desirous  of  keeping  us  at  the  place  we  came  from, 
so  we  are  here  to  cast  in  our  lot  with  the  people  in  Law- 
rence." 

In  the  few  hours  that  followed,  Frank  found  a  willing 
and  deeply  interested  listener  in  Mr.  Brown,  as  he 
recounted  to  him  all  the  circumstances  which  had  led  up 
to  the  manumission  of  his  slaves,  their  successful  coloni- 
zation in  Illinois,  the  kidnapping  of  Sam,  and  subsequent 
search  for  him,  ending  with  the  adventure  of  the  day 
with  Livingstone  and  his  band. 

All  these  things  were  vividly  told  by  the  narrator  and 
listened  to  with  rapt,  eager  interest  by  his  visitor. 

The  old  man  looked  in  silence  at  Frank  for  a  few 
moments,  after  he  had  finished,  and  then  said  :  "  It  is 
strange,  we  see  sometimes  a  man  like  you  come  out  cA 
such  unnatural  surroundings.  How  do  you  suppose  ycui 
came  by  all  these  splended  impulses.''  I  will  tell  you." 
said  he,  answering  his  own   question,  in  impressive  tone, 


86  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

"  they  are  God  dwelling  in  you.  It  is  a  good  thing  to 
have  freed  your  shives  ;  you  have  done  well ;  but,"  he 
added,  with  a  sigh,  "  that  is  not  the  way  this  thing  is  to 
be  done.  That  is  not  the  way,"  he  added,  musingly — and 
then,  with  sudden  fervor  :  "  It  will  require  a  convulsion 
— a  convulsion,  I  tell  you,"  said  he,  with  suppressed  pas- 
sion in  his  voice,  "to  rid  us  of  this  iniquity.  But  it  is 
working  :  the  leaven  is  working." 

Frank  looked  with  a  kind  of  fascination  upon  the  strange 
light  in  the  face  before  him.  They  walked  together  out 
under  the  stars  ;  although  it  was  midnight,  he  was  reluc- 
tant to  part  from  his  new  friend.  As  his  eye  swept  the 
horizon,  in  the  direction  of  his  "  claim,"  he  saw  something 
which  startled  him. 

A  light !  It  increased,  wavered,  then  grew  brighter 
and  brighter.  "The  scoundrels!  "  he  exclaimed.  "Mr. 
Brown,  look  there  !  see,  they  are  burning  my  cabin,  just  as 
I  expected,"  said  he,  with  a  grim  laugh.  "  I  knew  they 
would  come  back  to-night  for  revenge,  and  finding  we 
have  gone,  they  wreak  their  vengeance  on  the  cabin." 

He  was  not  mistaken.  In  the  morning,  when  Clayton 
rode  over  to  the  claim,  he  found  nothing  but  a  pile  of 
ashes  to  distinguish  the  spot  where  the  friendly  shelter 
from  the  storm  and  savage  violence  had  stood  on  the  pre- 
vious day.  Posted  on  a  board,  driven  in  the  ground 
near  by,  were  these  w^ords,  written  in  a  bold  hand  : 

"  So    WE   TREAT   ALL    TRAITORS    TO    THE    SoUTH." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

In  a  few  days  followed  the  election — and  to  attempt  a 
description  of  the  disgraceful  scenes  which  were  enacted 
would  be  a  difficult  task. 

The  ruffians  inarched  from  poll  to  poll  and  paraded 
around,  firing  pistols,  and  voting  as  often  as  they  could 
think  of  a  name  under  which  to  cast  a  ballot,  and  in  many 
cases,  openly  putting  in  two  or  three  tickets  in  utter  dis- 
regard of  law. 

A  protest  was  an  invitation  to  be  shot ;  and  few  in- 
dulged in  the  expensive  luxury. 

The  election  over,  and  the  result  announced,  thousands 
of  those  who  came  only  to  vote  returned  to  their  old 
homes  in  Missouri.  Among  the  number  were  our  friends 
from  Camp  Gordon,  Livingstone,  Hart  and  Skinner. 

Claude  Duvall  and  Clayton  followed  closely  on  the 
heels  ot  the  returning  party,  and  when  they  reached  Kan- 
sas City,  a  new  process  was  issued  and  served  on  Mr. 
Skinner,  calling  on  him  to  bring  his  servant  Sam  into 
court  and  show  title. 

On  the  day  of  the  trial,  Livingstone  and  Hart  were 
seen  in  earnest  conversation  near  the  door  of  the  court- 
room.    Hart  was  evidently  protesting  against  his  friend's 

threat  to    lynch    Clayton    as    "  a    d d   traitor   to  the 

South  and  the  meanest  kind  of  abolitionist." 

"  Even  if  the  justice  holds  that  the  nigger  is  a  free  man 
and  that  Jim's  bill-of-sale  is  not  valid,"  said  Hart,  "  wc 
can  take  him  from  the  officers  and  shove  him  out  in  Kan- 
sas, where  no  process  from  court  will  have  any  effect.  No 
need  to  be  in  a  hurry.  Let  us  hear  the  case  and  act 
afterwards." 

So  he  prevailed,  and  when  the  case  was  called,  Sam 
was  brought  in,  accompanied  by  Wm.  Skinner,  who  pro- 
duced a  regular  bill-of-sale,  signed  by  Samuel  Sly  for  the 
valuable  consideration  of  $700. 

"Now,  Mr.  Skinner,  have  you  any  witnesses  to  lliis  pur- 
chase and  bill  of  sale  ?'"  demanded  the  Court, 


88  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

"I  have,  your  honor.  Mr.  Livingstone  here  was  with 
me  on  the  day  of  purchase,  and  heard  the  representation 
of  Sly  and  his  neighbor,  Mr.  Smith,  as  to  the  ownership  of 
this  man  ;  and  to  the  fact  that  he  had  been  recently  cap- 
tured in  an  effort  to  escape  from  him  and  was  sold  for  no 
other  fault." 

Livingstone's  testimony  corroborated  Skinner.  Clay- 
ton was  asked  if  he  had  any  further  testimony  to  offer 
other  than  was  set  forth  in  his  alilidavit,  on  which  the  proc- 
ess was  issued. 

"I  have,  your  honor,  a  witness  whom  I  should  like 
sworn." 

When  the  oath  was  administered  to  Claude  Duvall,  the 
justice  asked  : 

'*  Do  you  know  this  man  Sam  ?  " 

"  Only  since  I  saw  him  some  weeks  ago  in  the  service 
of  Mr.  Skinner." 

"  How  did  you  come  to  know  him  ?  "' 

"  I  was  employed  by  Mr.  Clayton  to  aid  him  in  recov- 
ering a  negro  who  he  said  had  been  kidnapped  and  we 
have  been  on  the  trail  some  months." 

"  So  you  do  not  know  whether  this  is  a  slave  or  a  free 
man?" 

"  I  do  not." 

"  Where  do  you  live  ?" 

'■  St.  Louis,  Missouri." 

"  Have  you  known  Mr.  Clayton  long  ?  " 

"  Only  since  employed  in  this  case,  except  a  casual 
meeting  some  time  before." 

"  Mr.  Clayton,  would  you  like  to  question  the  witness 
further  ?  "  asked  the  justice. 

"  I  would  like,  your  honor,  to  ask  if  he  was  present 
when  I  found  Sam  at  Big  Springs  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  honor,  and  I  should  judge  by  the  manner  of 
the  nigger  that  they  were  in  the  relation  of  master  and 
slave." 

"There!  you  simply  judge  this  man  belongs  to  Mr. 
Clayton.  You  know  nothing  about  it  absolutely,"  roared 
Livingstone.  "  I  object  to  the  witness  answering  the  ques- 
tion, your  honor.  'Fhis  is  an  unwarrantable  interference 
of  an  outside  party." 

"  The  v.itness  need  not  answer  the  question." 

Clavton  himself  was  then  sworn,     He  testified  to  having 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  89 

known  the  man  since  his  boyhood,  and  that  he  had  inher- 
ited him  from  his  grandfather  Lucas'  estate,  and  was  abso- 
lutel}^  sure  this  was  the  same  man  so  inherited  and  removed 
from  Kentucky  to  Illinois,  from  which  place  he  was  kid- 
napped. 

During"  this  time,  there  was  a  whispered  conversation 
between  the  trio  and  Claude  in  one  corner  of  the  court- 
room.    Then  Mr.  Skinner  stepped  forward,  and  said  : 

'•  Your  honor,  I  would  like  to  ask  the  witness  a  few 
questions  before  he  leaves  the  stand.  I  wish  to  know  if 
he  claims  this  man  as  his  slave,  or  as  merely  held  illegallv 
as  a  slave  by  myself  as  set  forth  in  his  affidavit  ?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course,  as  a  slave,"  answered  the  Court. 

Skinner  remarked  :  "  I  would  like  to  have  the  witness 
answer  the  question.'' 

"  I  claim  as  set  forth  in  my  affidavit,  that  he  is  illegally 
held  as  a  slave  by  Mr.  Skinner  ;  and  as  his  friend  and 
attorney,  I  demand  his  release." 

"  Then  this  man  is  not  your  slave  ?  " 

"  He  is  not." 

"  Is  he  a  slave  at  all  ?  " 

"  He  is,  in  law  and  equity,  a  free  man,  kidnapped  from 
'.lis  home  and  family,  and  as  his  friend  and  former  master, 
I  demand  his  release." 

"  Has  he  his  free  papers,  Mr.  Clavton  ?" 

"  I  have  them  here,  sir,"'  taking  from  his  pocket  Sam's 
manumission  papers;  "there  they  are,  for  your  honor's 
inspection." 

While  the  justice  was  examining  the  papers,  a  further 
whispered  conference  ensued  between  Skinner  and 
Duvall,  and  Skinner  said  aloud  : 

"The  man  cannot  be  set  at  liberty  as  a  freeman  in  this 
State  without  iirst  giving  a  good  and  satisfactory  bond  in 
the  sum  of  two  thousand  dollars  for  his  good  behavior. 
Am  I  not  right,  your  honor  ?  " 

"  Such  is  the  law,"  answered  the  justice. 

"  I  think  we  will  have  no  trouble  in  giving  any  bond 
your  honor  may  exact,"  responded  Clavton. 

"  We  will  see  about  that,"  answered  Livingstone,  with  a 
hiss  like  a  viper. 

"We  will/'  said  Clayton,  turning  upon  him  with  a  look 
of  defiance. 

Sam  had  been  anxiously  watching  the  proceedings  from 


90  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

the  corner  where  he  sat,  and  judging  from  the  pallid  face 
and  earnest  manner  of  his  young  master  that  the  case  was 
going  against  him,  could  restrain  liimself  no  longer,  as  he 
burst  out  with  great  feeling : 

"  Bless  de  Lor',  massa  jedge  might  jis  so  well  say  Sam 
don'  know  he  head  nor  his  own  han's  as  ter  say  dat  Mars 
Frank  dar  don't  know  and  own  dis  nigger.  Ebber  since  he 
was  little  pickaninny,  I  done  bin  call  him  Mars  Frank,  long 
afore  Mars  Lucas  or  Miss  Fannie  died." 

During  the  delivery  of  this  speech,  the  Court  had  ordered 
silence.  Clayton  told  him  to  sit  down  ;  that  he  was  not 
allowed  to  say  anything.  The  judge  ordered  the  bailiff  to 
"  silence  that  nigger,"  and  Clayton  had  gone  over  to  com- 
pel obedience,  when  Livingstone  strode  forward  and  in  a 
threatening  manner,  said  : 

"  I'll  silence  the  d — n  scoundrel." 

"  No,  you'll  not,"'  said  Clayton,  interposing  to  stop  the 
mad  bull.  "  The  officer  of  the  court  will  do  that  without 
your  assistance."  And  the  two  men  glared  at  each  other, 
as  if  each  were  taking  the  full  measure  of  his  adversary. 

"Order  in  court,"  shouted  the  bailiff,  as  he  forced  Sam 
to  sit  down  ;  and,  stepping  between  the  two  angry  men,  he 
said  : 

"  Be  seated,  gentlemen." 

"  Is  there  any  further  testimony  to  be  offered  in  the 
case  ?  "  inquired  the  justice. 

"  None,"  answered  the  plaintiff"  and  defendant  alike. 

"  Then  the  Court  will  render  judgment.  The  testi- 
mony is  conflicting  as  to  ownership  of  Mr.  Skinner, 
and  in  opposition  to  his  bill-of-sale,  is  offered  in  evidence 
the  free  papers  of  this  man,  and  his  discharge  is  asked  on 
tiie  ground  that  he  is  a  free  man  by  virtue  of  such  manu- 
mission. If  we  admit  the  genuineness  of  the  papers, 
the  Court  could  not  release  tliis  man  in  absence  of  the 
required  bond." 

"  That  bond  we  stand  prepared  to  give,  whatever  the 
amount  or  conditions,"  responded  Clayton." 

••  I  believe,  if  your  honor  will  permit,  the  law  requires 
two  or  more  property-holders  in  the  county  where  such 
manumitted  slave  shall  reside,  to  be  bound  each  in 
double  the  penal  sum  of  the  bond,''  interposed  Skinner. 

'•We  can  meet  that  objection,"  said  Clayton,  "by 
depositing  the  money  in  the  hands  of  the  Court." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  9I 

"That  does  not  meet  the  requirements  of  the  law. 
Two  property-holders  who  shall  reside  in  the  county 
where  the  nigger  lives,"  persisted  Skinner. 

"  Then,"  continued  Clayton,  "  we  will  deposit  the 
money  with  some  propertj'-holders  who  can  go  on  the 
bond." 

"  Yes,"  put  in  Livingstone,  "  '  can  go  on  the  bond.' 
I'd  smile  to  see  any  man  in  this  county  go  on  that  bond. 
Not  much,  Mr.  Clayton.  You  can't  give  that  bond 
here." 

Clayton  stood  speechless,  as  the  Court  continued  : 

"  Gentlemen,  the  case  does  not  turn  altogether  on  the 
validity  of  a  bond.  The  preponderance  of  evidence  is 
in  favor  of  the  bill-of-sale  ;  and  in  view  of  this  fact,  and, 
as  I  take  it,  the  impossibility  to  give  the  bond  as  required 
by  law,  judgment  is  rendered  in  favor  of  the  defendant." 

The  case  was  lost.  "What  else  could  I  have  ex- 
pected ?  "  Clayton  was  saying  to  himself,  as  he  left  the 
court-room,  trying  not  to  see  the  vulgar  jeers  and  laugh- 
ter of  the  three  victors,  nor,  what  hurt  him  most  of  all, 
the  disappointment  and  distress  of  Sarn. 

Clayton  returned  the  following  day  to  Lawrence. 
There  he  was  a  witness  to  the  farce  of  the  installation  of 
ofificers  recently  elected,  who,  in  many  cases,  were  abso- 
lutely residents  of  Missouri  ;  and  to  the  meeting  of  the 
'J'erritorial  legislature,  composed  of  the  same  class  of  peo- 
ple. 

Sam  went  back  to  slavery  with  a  heavy  heart  after  the 
trial,  when  he  thought  himself  under  the  double  protec- 
tion of  his  young  master  and  the  law.  There  was  one 
hope  left  him,  and  to  this  he  clung  with  all  the  tenacity 
of  a  drowning  man,  and  that  was  he  knew  "  Mars  Frank 
neber  would  quit  tryin'  ter  get  Sam  outer  der  clutches  ob 
dese  heah  nigger-stealin'  white  trash  till  de  day  of  judg- 
ment done  come,  suah  nuff." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  flowers  had  blossomed  five  successive  summers 
upon  poor  Harry  Barnes'  grave.  And  since  that  in- 
terview with  his  comrade  and  patron,  Colonel  Ray,  Hawks 
had  been  seen  no  more  by  his  friends.  The  sad  episode 
had  ceased  to  be  talked  about.  Dr.  Barnes  had  appar- 
ently relinquished  his  purpose  of  unearthing  the  mystery 
of  his  nephew's  death,  and  time  seemed  to  have  covered 
this  with  the  decent  mantle  she  spreads  over  so  many 
other  unsightly  things. 

Hawks  believed  he  might  now  safely  emerge  from  his 
long  retirement  (or  perhaps  it  was  exile) ;  and  one  bright 
May  morning  there  appeared  in  the  little  town  of  St. 
Charles  a  sedate-looking,  dark-complexioned  gentleman, 
with  a  broad-brimmed  hat  and  a  closely  buttoned  coat, 
which  left  one  in  doubt  as  to  whether  he  were  planter  or 
Quaker. 

It  will  be  interesting  to  read  the  thoughts  which  were 
at  work  under  that  broad-brimmed  hat,  and  the  purposes 
in  the  heart  buttoned  so  respectably  under  that  drab 
coat.  This  gentleman  was  saying  to  himself,  "  Five 
years  is  a  good  while,  and  people  are  not  likely  to  busy 
themselves   about  all    that  now.     It'll  be  a  mighty  nice 

thing  to  get  hold  o'  that  kid.     I  was  a fool  to  throw 

her  away,  and  I  managed  the  whole  business  like  a 

fool.  Kinder  lost  my  head  for  once  in  my  life.  But  I'll 
catch  up  with  'em  yet.  This  old  boy  hasn't  been  thinkin' 
and  thinkin'  this  five  years  for  nothin'.  I'll  find  'em  both, 
sure's  my  name's  Tom  Hawks." 

Such  were  the  unpleasant  thoughts  of  the  respectable 
stranger  as  he  wandered  carelessly  down  by  the  river- 
side, and  entered  into  conversation  with  whomsoever 
chance  threw  in  his  path. 

One  man  in  answer  to  his  question,  said  : 

"  Why,  yas  ;  I  do  remember  hearin'  my  old  friend  Si 
Jones  tellin'  i,uthin'  like  that  happenin'  to  him.  'Twas  in 
his  own  boat  not  fur  from  where  we  now  are.     How  he 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  93 

did  CUSS  that  trader,  though  !  I  hearn  him  tell  as  how 
he  was  nigh  to  knockin'  him  overboard  when  the  wench 
screamed  and  fell  down  in  a  faint  as  her  bab3'was  throw'd 
on  shore." 

"  Do  you  know  where  Si  Jones  is  ?  "  queried  Hawks, 
as  he  saw  the  old  fisherman  shifting  his  quid  of  tobacco 
for  a  fresh  start. 

"  Well,  stranger,  there  an't  many  folks,  I  reckon,  as 
knows  much  about  Si  durin'  summer.  I  hearn  some  say 
as  he  follows  the  geese  and  ducks  and  wild  fowl  way  up 
'bout  the  North  Pole,  where  he  has  a  kind  of  knack  for 
fishin'  and  huntin'  in  the  open  sea.  P'raps  you  know 
what  that  is,  an'  whar'  'tis.  They  do  say  that  Si  Jones 
has  owned  up  to  having  actually  found  that  North  Pole, 
and  to  have  fished  with  it  for  whales,  using  a  two-inch 
cable  for  a  line  and  a  ship's  anchor  for  a  hook." 

"  You're  a  jolly  fellow,"  broke  in  Hawks  to  the  garru- 
lous fisherman.  "  There,  take  that,"  tossing  him  a 
silver  dollar.  "  Make  further  inquiries  about  Si  Jones 
or  any  of  his  crew  who  ferried  over  the  drove  of  slaves." 

Turning  to  leave  the  crowd  of  fishermen  who  had  been 
listening  to  Gulliver,  or  "  Gull,"  as  he  was  known  among 
his  companions  because  of  his  wonderful  stories  he  never 
tired  of  telling  : 

"  Stranger,"  said  a  small  man,  ill-clad,  with  one  leg 
six  inches  shorter  than  the  other,  an  oar  in  one  hand 
and  a  slouched  hat  in  the  other,  "  I  was  here  when 
that  boat-load  of  niggers  was  set  across  the  ice,  and 
I  seed  the  man  ketch  the  baby.  1  b'lieve  you's  mistaken 
'bout  its  being  a  nigger  baby  ;  'twas  jis'  as  white  as  any 
of  us,  and  that  are  fine  gentleman  which  caught  it, 
jis'  like  a  trab-ball,  he  declared  it  were  a  white  baby 
some  one  had  stole.  He  follered  nex'  day  over  to  St. 
Louis  to  kinder  find  out  about  the  thing.  But  he  didn't, 
all  the  same, — leastwise,  I  hearn  him  tell  the  lan'lady 
up  to  the  hotel  that  no  soundin'  could  be  had  of  'em  ; 
and  so  he  finally  kinder  took  to  the  chile  an'  carried  it  ofif 
with  him.  Stranger,  I  sells  fish  to  the  hotel  an'  the 
lan'lady  knows  what  I  tell  you  is  all  true  ;  an'  if  yer 
wanter  know  mor'  'an  this,  she  kin  tell  it  to  yer." 

Hawks  had  listened  attentively  to  this  story,  walking 
slowly  away  from  the  crowd. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  putting  some  silver  in  the  man's  hand, 


94  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"  say  nothing  of  what  you  have  told  nie,  but  meet  me 
here  to-morrow  at  this  hour." 

At  the  hotel  Hawks  heard  from  Tabitha's  own  lips  all 
the  details  of  that  dramatic  incident,  which,  indeed,  she 
had  told,  at  least  a  thousand  times  since,  and  with  which 
she  invariably  entertained  a  new  guest. 

"  What  became  of  the  child  ?  "  said  Hawks. 

"  Well,  1  tried  to  get  it  myself  and  offered  to  adopt  it 
if  Mr.  Clayton  would " 

"  What  did  you  say  was  his  name  ?  "  interrupted 
Hawks,  impetuously. 

"  Clayton — Mister  Clayton — and  as  fine  a  gen " 

"  Where  from  ?  "  said  Hawks. 

"Kentucky,"  said  Tabitlia,  rather  stiffly.  She  was  not 
used  to  such  lack  of  respect  in  her  listeners,  and  began 
to  look  at  this  Quaker  gentleman  through  her  spectacles 
with  a  fresh  scrutiny. 

Hawks  was  quick  to  perceive  that  he  was  losing 
ground,  and  very  graciously  praised  the  fried  fish  he  was 
eating  before  resuming. 

"Did  I  understand  you  that  Mr.  Clayton  was  from 
Kentucky.'"  in  his  blandest  tone. 

Tabilha  melted  at  once. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  think  so,  or  was  it  from  Illinois  ?  No,  it 
was  Kentucky — from  Louisville  or  Lucaston.  I  have 
heard  him  speak  of  that  little  town  often." 

At  the  name  "  Lucaston,"  Hawks  gave  a  start,  as 
though  the  ghost  of  some  recollection  had  thrust  a  dagger 
into  his  hardened  conscience,  and,  pushing  away  his 
plate,  he  left  the  room. 

When  old  Crank  was  met  according  to  appointment. 
he  was  plied  with  questions  as  to  where  Clayton 
lived. 

"  Well,  stranger,  I  think  it  is  in  Illinoy,  somewhar  ; 
but  Si  Jones  knows  all  about  that  ere  man,  and  can  go 
an'  put  his  hand  on  him.  You  see  Si,  he  claims  to  be  a 
Kentuckian  and  that  kinder  makes  him  and  the  fine 
gentleman  take  to  each  other.  You  know  Kentuckians 
are  worse  'an  a  bird  of  a  feather." 

"But  damnation.  Crank,  where  is  Si?"  said  Hawks, 
losing  all  patience  with  the  old  man's  loquacit}'. 

"  He's  gone  north  with  the  wild  fowl,  but,  stranger,  he 
conies  back  in  cold  weather  an'  you  kin  git   all  you  wani 


THE    STORMY    PETREL. 


95 


out  of  him  by  givin'  him  a  drink  of  likor  and  starlin'  liim 
on  the  subject." 

Faihng  to  get  more  information,  Hawks  decided  to  em- 
ploy Crank  to  work  for  him  in  this  business,  and  to  aid 
him  in  making  a  search  at  the  river  towns.  Hawks  and 
Crank  searched  the  towns  on  the  Illinois  side  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi River,  Hawks  making  Alton  his  headquarters. 

"If  we  succeed  in  finding  this  child,"  said  Hawks  one 
day  to  Crank,  "  there  will  have  to  be  a  trial  in  court,  and 
I  am  going  to  claim  it  as  my  own  slave." 

"The  devil  you  are!  it's  no  nigger,"  said  the  aston- 
ished Crank  ;  "  it's  white'n  'n  you  an'  me  put  together. 
That  won't  go  down  nowhere,  stranger;  no,  sir,  that  won't 
go  down — leas'wise,  I  don't  think  so,"  he  added,  as  he 
looked  up  and  saw  his  employer's  scowling  face  glaring  at 
his  own  diminutive  figure. 

"  Well,  that  is  no  concern  of  yours.  You  remember  that 
the  child  was  handed  to  the  man  on  shore  by  the  gentle- 
man in  the  boat." 

"  No,  stranger,  I  said  it  was  throw'd  to  him  like  a  trab- 
ball." 

"  Damnation,  Crank,  here's  what  I  want  you  to  say 
when  you  are  asked,  and  it's  the  truth  too  : — that  the 
baby  was  put  in  this  man's  hands  to  hold  while  we  were 
fixing  the  niggers  in  the  boat,  and  pushed  ofif,  leaving  the 
child  in  his  custody.  I  am  going  to  swear  to  that  state 
of  facts  ;  do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  stranger,  but  they  are  not  all  facts,  for  you  was 
agoin'  to  throw  the  kid  under  the  ice,  that's  jis'  what  you 
said  when  you " 

"/said  ?  You  say  /was  goin'  to  throw?  "  thundered 
Hawks,  glowering  at  Crank's  diminutive  figure.  "  What 
in  h — 1  do  you  mean  by  that.'  " 

"Come  now,  stranger,"  said  Crank,  with  a  queer  laugh, 
"that  won't  go  down.  Why,  I  know'd  you  from  the  fust 
word  you  spoke  about  that." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Hawks,  more  quietly,  "that's  all  right. 
You  and  I  are  going  to  be  sort  of  partners,"  said  he,  slap- 
ping his  friend  good-naturedly  on  the  shoulder.  "  But — 
mum's  the  word,"  he  added,  with  a  warning  gesture, 
"don't  forget." 

"  No ;  I  won't  forgit."  But  there  was  something  in 
the  tone  which  was  not  quite  satisfactory  to  Hawks. 


96  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

"Crank,"  said  he,  fixing  his  eye  upon  him  so  that  it 
seemed  to  hold  him,  "  I  pay  well  for  work  ;  I  think  you 
know  that.  How  does  that  suit  of  clothes  compare  with 
the  one  I  found  you  in  ?  " 

"Yes,  stranger,"  said  Crank,  meekly;  "I  only  kinder 
thought  you  was  mistaken  about  some  of  the  fax.  That's 
all."' 

"Well,  now,  you  just  bear  in  mindyouVe  got  to  remem- 
ber things  as  /do.     Do  you  hear  ? " 


I 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Spring  had  blossomed  into  summer,  and  Hawks  was 
still  searching  for  his  prey.  He  and  Crank  were  on  a 
steamer,  passengers  to  St.  Louis,  when  a  slight  accident 
detained  them  at  Perkins'  Landing  on  the  Illinois  side  of 
the  Mississippi  River.  Strolling  up  to  the  warehouse — 
store  and  saloon  combined — Hawks  inquired  of  Mr.  Per- 
kins the  price  of  land,  and  the  character  of  the  settlers. 

"  Have  you  many  Southern  people  here  ?  " 

"  Some  few,  mostly  from  across  the  river.  Mr.  Stanley, 
or  Mr.  Clayton's  team  has  just  left  the  door.  They  are 
from  Kentucky.  Mr.  Clayton,  I  think,  owns  the  settle- 
ment and  his  cousin,  John  Stanley,  superintends  the  nig- 
gers that  work  for  him.  Clayton  is  away  from  home,  and 
is  absent  a  good  deal." 

"What  is  Mr.  Clayton's  first  name  ?  "  inquired  Hawks, 
ordering  a  drink  of  whiskey  and  inviting  the  proprietor  to 
join  him.  Perkins  looked  up  and  observed  the  eager 
expression  of  his  questioner. 

"  Frank  Clayton  is  his  name,  sir." 

"  I  think  I  know  or  used  to  know  this  Mr.  Clayton. 
Can  you  tell  me,  has  he  any  family  ?  " 

"  About  five  years  ago,  he  brought  a  small  child  to  the 
settlement ;  some  say  it  might  be  his,  though  tiie  old  nig- 
ger woman  who  tends  to  it,  says  it  is  a  stolen  baby  that  he 
found  somewhere.  But  I  don't  know  anything  about  it. 
None  of  my  business  you  know." 

On  leaving  the  warehouse.  Hawks  said  : 

"  I  believe  I'll  stop  over  and  see  my  old  friend  and 
visit  his  place.     How  far  is  it  from  here  .-'  " 

"  Only  a  few  miles  back,  sir." 

So  Hawks  had  his  baggage  removed  from  the  steamer 
to  a  small  hotel  or  boarding-house,  and  he  sent  Crank  to 
a  different  place,  after  rehearsing  the  testiinony  the  latter 
was  to  give  when  occasion  required. 

On  the  day  following  there  was  a  great  commotion  at 
the  colonv.     Little  Petrel  had  been  seized  bv  an  officer 


98  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

on  a  process  issued  by  the  justice.  Jolin  Stanley  had 
been  summoned  from  a  distant  part  of  the  settlement 
when  the  officer  executed  the  writ,  and,  on  arriving,  found 
his  room  occupied  by  two  men — one  the  officer,  whom  he 
knew  casually  at  the  landing,  holding  by  the  hand  the 
child  who  had  cried  herself  hoarse,  nay,  speechless.  In 
her  effort  to  escape  from  her  captor,  she  had  exhausted 
herself,  and  was  lying  back  in  the  chair  by  his  side  sob- 
bing. The  other,  a  tall,  dark  man,  sat  tapping  the  floor 
with  his  cane.  On  the  outside  stood  old  Aunt  Liza  and 
Aunt  Dorcas,  both  in  tears  and  lamentations,  surrounded 
by  half  a  dozen  negro  children. 

The  officer  had  only  waited  out  of  courtesy  for  Mr. 
Stanley's  return,  before  taking  the  prisoner  before  the 
Court.  On  seeing  her  protector,  whom  she  had  been  in- 
structed to  call  "  Cousin  John,"  enter  the  door,  the  child 
sprang  forward  with  a  cry  of  joy. 

"  Oh,  Tousin  John,  take  me  away — take  me  away." 

Her  movement  was  so  like  a  flash  of  lightning  that  she 
freed  herself  from  the  officer  and  was  in  the  arms  of  John 
Stanley  in  an  instant,  with  her  little  curly  head  nestled 
on  his  broad  chest,  as  he  stood  glaring  like  a  lion  at  the 
two  intruders. 

The  officer  made  an  effort  to  intercept  the  child  and  to 
gain  possession  of  her,  but  was  waved  back  with  a  hand 
brown  with  honest  toil,  herculean  in  size  and  strength,  and 
in  a  commanding  tone,  that  there  was  no  mistaking,  Stan- 
ley said  ; 

"  Back,  sir,  back,  I  say,  or,  by  the  Eternal,  I  will  not  be 
answerable  for  the  broken  bones  in  your  body.  By  what 
authority  do  you  come  here  and  seize  this  child  ?  Under 
what  pretext  do  you  do  it  ?  " 

Recovering  his  presence  of  mind,  and  prompted  by 
Hawks,  the  officer  produced  the  warrant  issued  by  the 
justice.  Holding  the  paper  in  one  hand,  with  little  Petrel 
clinging  tightly  about  his  neck  with  both  her  little  arms, 
her  head  still  bowed  on  his  shoulder,  John  Stanley  read  it 
over,  and  then  said  with  deep  deliberation: 

"  And  you,  Thomas  Hawks,  claim  this  child  as  your 
slave.?"  and  John  Stanley's  eyes  blazed  with  light  like 
two  planets  as  he  looked  at  the  complainant. 

Hawks  nervously  averted  his  face,  arose  from  his  seat, 
and  walked  to  the  door,  where  he  turned  and  said: 


TliE    STORMY    PETREL.  99 

"  Officer,  do  your  duty.  I  am  tired  of  the  dumb  show — 
bring  along  your  prisoner." 

"  Ah,  it  is  well  for  you,  villain  as  I  know  you  are,  that 
I  am  a  law-abiding  man,  else  I  would  take  you  in  these 
hands  of  mine  and  literally  pulverize  and  return  you  to 
mother  earth  as  fertilizer,  all  you  are  good  for." 

Then  he  sat  down  more  calmly,  and  bade  the  officer  be 
seated  while  he  made  inquiry  as  to  the  mode  of  pro- 
cedure,— when  the  trial  would  occur;  if  it  could  be  post- 
poned until  Mr.  Clayton  could  be  present,  not  only  as 
protector  of  the  child,  but  as  an  important  witness  in  the 
case. 

'•  I  can  only  say,'"  replied  the  officer,  "  that  I  am  com- 
manded by  this  writ,  as  you  see,  to  bring  this  child  before 
the  justice  who  issued  it  with  all  possible  dispatch,  and 
there  my  duty  ends,  and  your  inquiries  must  be  made  of 
the  Court." 

"  So  I  see,"  said  Stanley,  as  Hawks  looked  in  at  the 
door  and  said:  "Officer,  when  are  you  coming?  I  am 
growing  tired  of  this  nonsense." 

John  Stanley  ordered  the  old  carriage  that  had  been 
brought  with  them  from  Kentucky,  and  the  officer  was  in- 
\ited  to  take  a  seat  with  him  and  his  little  charge,  whose 
arms  were  still  clinging  about  his  neck,  and  who  could 
not  be  induced  to  raise  her  head  or  speak  but  in  a 
whisper  to  her  protector.  All  this  was  done  with  such 
quiet  power  as  left  no  room  for  question  or  dissent. 
Hawks  followed  sullenly,  occasionally  muttering  threats 
of  vengeance. 

Arrived  at  the  court-house,  the  justice  was  notified  of 
the  return  of  the  officer  with  his  prisoner,  and  the  writ  ex- 
ecuted. 

In  opening  the  case,  Hawks  demanded  that  the  officer 
should  take  charge  of  the  prisoner,  and  not  leave  her  in 
tiie  custody  of  an  irresponsible  party. 

John  Stanley  spoke  to  the  officer  who  sat  at  his  side, 
and  they  arose  and  walked  to  the  dock,  where  both  sat 
down. 

Hawks  evidently  expected  to  see  Stanley  resist  the  tak- 
ing of  the  child  from  him  ;  but  now  the  law  was  satisfied 
without  commotion. 

Hawks,  being  sworn,  proceeded  to  state  his  case. 

He  said  he  had  bought  the  mother  and  child,  and  then 


100  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

recounted  the  difficulties  of  getting  to  New  Orleans  with 
his  slaves. 

When  he  came  to  that  part  of  his  statement  touching 
the  crossing  of  the  river  at  St.  Charles,  he  glanced 
around  the  room  at  the  motley  crowd  assembled,  and 
then,  with  a  satisfied  air,  continued  : 

"  And  in  arranging  the  slaves  in  a  boat,  this  child,  then 
a  young  baby,  was  handed  to  a  tall  man  to  hold  for  a  mu- 
ment  while  the  mother,  with  the  other  negroes,  were  get- 
ting seated;  the  crush  of  ice  was  very  great,  and,  in  the 
confusion,  the  boat  was  pushed  off,  and  we  only  made  the 
discovery  that  the  child  had  been  left  when  too  late,  for 
we  were  in  the  current  and  could  not  return,  and  it  was 
impossible  to  recross  the  river  that  day.  Instead  of  the 
man  leaving  the  child  at  St.  Charles  in  the  custody  of 
some  one,  where  it  might  have  been  easily  found  and  re- 
claimed by  the  real  owner,  he  secreted  her  here.  Impor- 
tant business  has  compelled  me  to  be  absent  for  the  last 
five  years,  or  I  should  have  looked  up  this  negro-thieving 
Yankee  before."  And  he  threw  an  insolent  look  of  de- 
fiance at  John  Stanley,  with  the  child  gathered  close  in 
his  arms. 

'•  What  evidence  have  you  in  support  of  your  state- 
ment ? "  inquired  the  judge,  as  Hawks  took  his  seat. 

"  I  don't  know,  your  honor,  that  more  should  be 
required.  I  am  sure  there  are  none  to  gainsay  what  I 
have  testified  to  ;  but  since  your  honor  has  suggested  it,  I 
will"  say  that  the  wharf  at  the  time  was  crowded  with 
boatmen  and  fishermen,  and  I  see  quite  a  number  here. 
Some  one  of  them  might  know  of  this  affair.  If  any  one 
present  knows  anything  of  the  matter,  I  wish  he  would 
come  forward." 

After  this  request  was  made,  there  was  a"  stir  in  the 
crowd  and  an  insignificant  figure  emerged  therefrom,  and 
limped  up  to  the  witness-box.  Stopping  there,  he  was 
interrogated  by  the  judge. 

"  Do  you  know  this  man  ?  "  pointing  to  Hawks. 

"Well,  Jedge,  can't  say  I  know  his  name.  I've  seed 
him  afore  this." 

"Where  did  you  see  him  ?  " 

"  In  St.  Charles,  Missouri,  nigh  on  to  five  year  ago  ?  " 

"  Have  you  heard  his  testimony  .''  " 

"  Well,  Jedge,  I  have,  some  of  it." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  lOl 

"  Do  30U  know  anything  about  the  case  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Jedge,  I  seed  somethin'  o'  what  was  done  at  the 
ice  flood  he's  been  tellin'  about." 

"  The  witness  may  be  sworn,"  instructed  the  judge, 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Crank,  sir." 

"  Crank,  indeed  ?  "  inquired  the  clerk.  "  You  seem 
well-named.     Have  you  no  other.''" 

"They  called  me  Tom  Smith  when  I  was  a  boy.  I 
got  my  leg  broke,  and  the  man  what  sot  it  said  he  was  a 
good  surgeon,  but  he  made  a  bad  job  outen  it,  and  lef-' 
one  leg  shorter'n  the  other.  So  people  called  me  Crank 
Smith,  and  at  last  they  drapped  the  Smith  and  it  is  only 
Crank  now." 

"Well,  Smith,  take  this  book  "  (extending  the  Bible), 
"  and  I  will  swear  you." 

"  I'll  take  this  ere  book,  but  that  was  never  my  way  of 
swearin'." 

Crank  was  then  sworn,  and  related  the  story  of  the 
preparation  for  crossing  the  river  substantially  as  Hawks 
had  done,  but  getting  excited  as  he  went  along,  he  said: 

"  This  man  heah  cussed  the  fellows  on  shore,  and  said 
if  some  of  'em  didn't  catch  the  d d  brat,  he'd " 

Hawks  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  I  beg  pardon,  your 
honor,  I  did  not  hear  what  the  witness  said.  Now,  my 
good  man,  if  you  will  repeat  the  last  part  of  your  tes- 
timony, I  will  be  obliged  to  you,"  saying  which  he 
gave  Crank  a  look  of  rage  which  made  the  witness 
quail. 

He  cleared  his  throat  in  confusion,  and  was  about  to 
begin  again,  when  John  Stanley,  in  turning  around, 
brought  the  little  head  that  rested  on  his  shoulder  near  to 
the  witness,  and  the  breeze  lifted  the  soft,  dark  hair  which 
fell  upon  the  old  man's  hand,  resting  on  the  railing,  reveal- 
ing a  portion  of  the  distressed  little  face,  so  appealing  and 
helpless,  that  Crank  involuntarily  extended  his  hand, 
and  stroked  back  the  curls.  She  felt  the  touch  and 
turned  her  face  to  see  who  it  was.  Their  eyes  met,  and 
the  little  girl  smiled  ;  she  recognized  a  kindly  face ;  and 
the  small  hand  that  had  clasped  John  Stanley  so  tightly 
was  timidly  extended  to  her  new  friend. 

All  this  happened  in  a  moment :  but  the  chord  that 
makes  the  whole  world  akin  had  been  touched. 


102  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

Crank  bowed  his  head  on  the  dimpled  little  hand  rest- 
ing in  his  own,  and,  perhaps,  gave  the  first  kiss  that  mem- 
ory had  recorded  ;  and  like  the  sacred  rod  that  smote  the 
rock,  a  fountain  was  Ijosed  in  his  heart,  and  down  the 
hardened  and  bronzed  cheek  stole  a  tear,  while  in  a 
choking  voice,  he  said  : 

"  No,  Jedge,  I  can't  change  that  ere  evidence,  if  it  killed 
me.  That  man  there,  he  swore  worse'n  the  fiends  that 
he'd  heave  the  brat  into  the  ice  ef  somebody  didn't  take 
it ;  and  he  tossed  the  little  thing  high  into  the  air,  an'  a 
tali  man  on  shore  ketchedit  on  the  fiy." 

All  this  time.  Hawks  was  glaring  ferociously,  at  the 
witness  who  deserted  his  cause  and  clung  to  the  des- 
perate fortunes  of  little  Petrel. 

"  Then  the  child  was  literally  thrown  away  ?  "  inquired 
John  Stanley. 

"  That's  it,  stranger,"  said  Crank,  "  an'  he  throwed  it 
mighty  hard,  too." 

"  How  came  you  to  be  present  here  ?"  continued  Stan- 
ley, seeing  his  advantage  in  the  old  man's  emotion. 

"  He  brought  me  here,"  nodding  his  head  towards 
Hawks,  who  had  not  removed  his  eyes  from  the  witness  ; 
but  Crank  was  looking  at  the  little  face  peering  out  of 
the  dark  night  of  soft  hair,  like  the  silver  lining  of  a  som- 
bre cloud,  and  sparkling  from  its  depths  were  two  eyes 
like  the  star  of  hope. 

"  Did  he  pay  your  way  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  paid  my  fare  and  paid  me,  too." 

"  Did  he  ever  instruct  you  how  you  should  testify  in  this 
case  when  it  should  come  up  for  trial .''  " 

"  I  object,  may  it  please  your  honor,  to  such  ques- 
tions," shouted  Hawks,  in  a  towering  rage,  as  he  arose 
from  his  seat  and  approached  the  witness,  "  and  I  trust 
the  Court  will  not  permit  the  witness  to  answer  them." 

"I  want  to  show  by  his  own  witness,  your  honor," 
remarked  John  Stanley,  "  that  the  complainant  employed 
this  man  to  come  here  to  testify  in  his  favor." 

"  And  what  if  I  did  ?  "  asked  Hawks,  breaking  in  with 
an  oath. 

"Sir,  you  will  be  fined  for  contempt  of  court  if  you 
repeat  that  offence,"  said  the  justice,  as  the  two  men 
•Stood  savagely  staring  at  each  other. 

"I  desire  to  show,"  continued  Stanley,  '"that  the  com 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  IO3 

plainant  attempted  to  corrupt  the  witness  to  give  false 
testimony." 

"  Be  seated,  gentlemen,"  said  the  constable.  "Order 
in  court." 

"The  witness  may  answer  the  question,"  said  the 
justice. 

"  Well,"  continued  Crank,  "  he  tole  me  he  was  gwine 
ter  testify  fust,  and  then  I  was  to  foller  his  lead." 

"  That  he  should  be  the  next  witness,  your  honor," 
interposed  Hawks. 

"Follow  him  how?"  asked  Stanley,  "by  saying  just 
what  he  had  previously  sworn  to  ?  " 

"  I  object  to  putting  words  in  the  witness's  mouth," 
shouted  Hawks  again  ;  but  all  too  late,  for  Crank  re- 
sponded : 

"  Jis'  so,  stranger.  He  said  I  mus'  swar  to  jis'  what  he 
did  ;  an'  when  I  kinder  objected,  he  said,  '  Da'n  yer,  don' 
I  pay  yer  well,  an'  I  want  yer  to  earn  yer  money.'  Well, 
Jedge,  I  war  kinder  unsartin  'bout  jis'  what  ter  do,  till  I 
saw  that  little  thing  thar  so  pitiful-like  ;  then  I  seed  my 
way  cl'ar.  A  fellows  may  kinder  warp  the  truth 'roun'  to 
suit  circumstances  when  thar  ain't  anybody  gwinter  git 
hurt  by  it.  But  if  I  was  to  say  anything  that  warn't  true, 
ter  help  him  git  that  ar'  baby,  I'd  expect  my  tongue  ter 
cleave  through  my  mouth  an'  my  ha'r  to  stan'  on  en'  like 
the  quills  of  a  freckle  porc'pine." 

When  Crank  left  the  witness-stand,  all  eyes  were 
turned  on  Stanley,  seated  in  the  dock  holding  tlie  little 
prisoner. 

"  Have  you  any  testimony  to  ofifer  in  defence,  Mr. 
Stanley.?  "  inquired  the  judge. 

"  I  desire,  your  honor,"  said  Stanley,  rising  and  ap- 
proaching the  justice,  "the  postponement  or  continuance 
of  the  case  until  Mr.  Clayton,  the  real  protector  and 
guardian  of  the  child,  can  be  present:  I  am  sure  your 
honor  will  hesitate  to  commit  this  babe,  born,  I  verily 
believe,  of  white  parents,  to  the  mercy  of  that  human 
vulture  who,  from  some  diabolical  plot,  has  cast  the  net 
in  which  to  ensnare  an  innocent  soul.  That  there  is' 
some  foul  wrong  hidden  under  this  proceeding,  I  feel 
assured.  That  this  child  is  no  slave,  I  can  convince 
your  honor  by  a  single  glance  at  her  features.  Raise 
your  head,  little  pet,  so  that  the  gentleman  may  see  you. 


104  '^HE   STORMY    PETREL. 

Don't  you  want  to  know  the  kind  judge  who  will  protect 
you  from  that  rough,  bad  man  ?  Don't  be  afraid.  Let  the 
gentleman  see  your  face,  and  then  you  can  go  b.ick 
iiome  to  old  Aunt  Liza." 

Slowly  the  little  head  was  lifted  up,  up  until  she  sat  erect. 

"Open  your  eyes,  my  little  girl,"  said  the  judge, 
coaxingly. 

The  lids  that  had  been  closed  tightly,  fringed  with 
their  long,  dark  lashes,  relaxed  a  little,  and  by  degrees, 
like  the  breaking  of  dawn  in  the  east,  the  full-orbed  day 
was  revealed.  Her  large,  dark  eyes,  soft  and  almost 
black,  with  a  tinge  of  amber,  looked  timidly  at  the  judge. 

Hawks  arose  and  stepped  in  front  to  look  again  and 
gloat  over  his  victim. 

At  sight  of  his  face,  the  child  screamed  and  buried  her 
head  on  John  Stanley's  breast.  For  the  first  time 
Hawks  had  looked  full  into  the  innocent  face  of  the 
child.  What  was  there  in  that  to  make  this  hardened 
scoundrel  blanch,  tremble,  and  gaze  with  distended  eyes 
as  if  he  looked  upon  a  ghost  ?  Perhaps  it  was  the  shadow 
of  some  victim  of  long,  long  ago,  whose  memory  started 
into  life  as  he  caught  an  expression  in  this  child's  lum- 
inous eyes.  But  this  was  no  time  to  think  of  "  the  shad- 
owy past,"  and  he  said,  falteringly : 

"  I  have  a  bill-of-sale,  your  honor,  of  this  child 
and  her  mother,  which  I  offer  for  the  inspection  of 
the  Court,  and  which,  for  private  reasons,  I  prefer 
should  not  be  shown  to  others.  The  evidence  in  this 
case  is  for  the  court  and  not  for  the  public.  This  paper 
shows  conclusively  that  the  child  is  a  slave  and  is  my 
property,  and  I  demand  her  under  the  laws  of  our  coun- 
try. As  for  the  delay  or  postponement  of  the  case  until 
Mr  Clayton  can  respond  as  defendant,  it  is  out  of  the 
question,  as  your  honor  will  see.  As  near  as  I  can 
learn,  he  is  somewhere  in  Kansas,  and  it  may  require 
three  or  four  weeks  to  have  him  here.  I  have  a  large 
estate  in  Louisiana;  am  now  going  direct  to  New  Orleans 
where  I  live,  and  where  the  child's  mother  is  anxiously 
awaiting  the  result  of  this  trial.  After  live  years'  separa- 
tion from  her  child,  it  would  be  inhuman  to  keep  her  a 
day  longer  in  suspense  than  is  necessary.  I  will  leave 
your  honor  my  address,  where  any  process  the  court  may 
choose  to  issue,  will  reach  me." 


THE    STORM V    PETREL.  105 

The  judge  took  ihe  bill-of-sale  obtained  from  Harr\' 
Barnes  by  Hawks  on  the  steamer,  and  after  examination, 
said  : 

"  This  seems  all  regular  ;  and  if  you  have  no  testimony 
to  offer,  Mr.  Stanley,  j  will  render  my  decision." 

John  Stanley  bowed  his  head  until  his  chin  rested 
upon  the  little  shoulder  of  Petrel,  and  thus  in  silence, 
heard  the  decision  which  the  Court  proceeded  to  ren- 
der. 

The  judge  held  that,  while  it  was  evident  from  the 
testimony  of  the  principal  witness  in  the  case  that 
the  plaintiff  intended  to  desert  and  abandon  his  own- 
ership in  the  child,  yet  he  nevertheless  could  reclaim 
his  property  "for  lack  of  consideration  and  legal  conve\- 
ance,  by  proof  of  ownership  and  payment  of  costs,  upon 
the  doing  of  which  he  shall  have  possession  of  the  child."' 

When  the  decision  had  been  rendered.  Crank  stole 
quietly  from  the  room,  vowing  in  his  own  heart  never  to 
lose  sight  or  trace  of  Petrel  until  she  was  rescued  from 
Hawks. 

When  the  Court  had  concluded,  the  necessary  order 
was  prepared,  directing  John  Stanley  to  surrender 
possession  of  the  child  to  its  rightful  owner. 

Totally  oblivious  to  all  surroundings,  the  two  stood, 
like  the  sturdy  oak  and  the  clinging  vine  after  the  wood- 
man's axe  had  severed  the  support. 

The  officer  approached  and  placing  his  hand  on  Stan- 
ley's shoulder,  said  : 

''  'Tis  the  order  of  the  Court  that  you  surrender  the 
child  to  the  custody  of  the  law  to  be  delivered  to  the 
rightful  owner.  Stanley  released  his  hold  and  both  arms 
fell  to  his  side.  There  was  a  perceptible  shudder  and 
tightening  of  the  arms  as  little  Petrel  clung  to  the  neck 
of  her  guardian.  Without  raising  his  head,  Stanley 
said  : 

"  I  am  a  law-abiding  man.     Do  your  duty." 

"Yes,  but  you  must  release  her." 

"  That,  I  have  done." 

"  Then  you  must  make  her  release  you." 

"  The  law  does  not  require  it,  and  I  only  conform 
to  the  commands  of  its  letter.  It  is  like  having  my  heart- 
strings torn  when  done  by  other  hands ;  and  I  shall  not 
dip  mine  in  human  blood.  " 


Io6  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

At  this  juncture,  Hawks  approached  and  said  to  the 
officer,  as  he  took  one  of  the  httle  arms  roughly  in  his 
grasp  and  tore  it  from  Stanley's  neck  : 

"  Now  loose  the  other,"  and  the  child  was  borne 
screaming,  almost  in  spasms,  from  the  room  with  ex- 
tended arms  and  streaming  eyes,  crying  : 

"  Tousin  John,     Tousin  John.  ' 

As  John  Stanley  raised  his  eyes  to  behold  that  help- 
less little  one,  his  first  impulse  was  to  fly  to  her  aid  ;  and 
with  one  great  stride,  he  bounded  to  the  side  of 
Hawks,  but  immediately  three  rough  men  interposed, 
as  if  by  a  preconcerted  arrangement,  and  the  fore- 
most of  the  trio  laid  a  heavy  hand  upon  his  shoul- 
der. Stanley  freed  himself  from  the  grasp  of  the 
man,  but  in  doing  so,  lost  his  sleeve  and  thus  re- 
vealed an  arm  that  would  have  graced  well  an  Ajax. 
The  three  men  surrounded  him,  each  striving  to  strike 
him  down,  but  Stanley's  wonderful  strength  and  supe- 
rior skill  in  boxing  (for  he  and  Clayton  had  made 
the  manly  art  one  of  their  regular  course  of  exer- 
cises and  amusements)  soon  succeeded  in  flooring  the 
three. 

By  this  time.  Hawks  and  the  officer  had  disap- 
peared with  Petrel  ;  and  as  Stanley  saw  the  angry 
roughs  preparing  to  assault  him  anew,  he  walked  to 
where  the  judge  and  clerk  of  the  court  were  stand- 
ing, the  judge  having  rapped  and  commanded  the 
peace  to  no  purpose.     As  he  approached,  he  said  : 

"Judge,  I  shall  be  charged  with  a  breach  of  the 
peace,  and  perhaps  resisting  an  officer  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  duty,  though  God  knows  I  had  no 
such  intention.  To  avoid  further  trouble,  which  I  see 
impending,  I  surrender  myself  as  prisoner  to  answer 
the  charge  when  made." 

The  judge  placed  his  hand  upon  Stanley's  shoulder 
and  commanded  the  crowd  to  disperse,  as  the  offender 
had  surrendered  and  was  under  arrest  ;  and  at  this 
moment  the  bailiff,  having  returned  from  his  duties,  was 
directed  to  disperse  the  crowd,  which  he  did. 

The  judge,  turning  to  Stanley,  said  : 

"Now,  take  my  advice  and  go  home  at  once.  I  will 
take  your  personal  recognizance  and  will  notify  you 
when  you  are  wanted." 


CHAPTER  XXr. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  an  October  da}',  Clayton  sat 
in  the  door  of  his  cabin,  rebuilt  upon  the  site  of  that 
which  had  been  destroyed  by  fire,  gazing  at  the  western 
sky  as  the  golden  tints  of  the  setting  sun  illumined  the 
masses  of  lazily  drifting  clouds,  looking  like  great  ice- 
bergs on  fire,  afloat  in  an  ocean  of  blue. 

He  had  sent  his  servant  to  the  post-office  at  Lawrence, 
and  was  now  awaiting  his  arrival  with  the  mail.  The 
horse  and  rider  soon  appeared  on  the  Indian  trail  leading 
to  his  cabin,  and  impatient  to  get  the  news,  he  walked  ta 
the  brow  of  the  hill  to  meet  Aleck,  who  delivered  to  him 
two  well-worn  letters,  which  bore  the  post-mark  of  Per- 
kins' Landing  and  were  both  in  John  Stanley's  hand- 
writing. 

Breaking  the  seal  of  the  one  with  the  earliest  date,  he 
read  as  follows  : — 

"Aug.—    185-. 
"  Dear  Frank  : — 

"  Our  crops  are  now  assured.  The  rain  came  in 
time  to  avert  the  threatened  drought.  I  am  really  proud 
of  the  season's  achievements.  All  of  the  hands  have 
done  well,  with  one  or  two  exceptions  ; — you  know  who 
the 'old  soldiers'  are — but  under  the  rules  that  I  have 
enforced,  '  those  that  sow  shall  reap,  and  those  only.' 
Tom  and  Bob  are  doing  better.  Ned's  example  is  good, 
and  Aunt  Liza  works  their  little  garden,  which  is  a 
model  for  the  others,  and  a  great  success." 

After  some  further  details  concerning  farm  work,  Stan- 
ley wrote  : — 

"  This  is  Sunday,  and  I  wish  you  could  see  all  the  peo- 
ple assembled  as  they  are  now,  under  the  old  canvas 
church,  where  Uncle  Ned  is  preaching  a  sermon  upon  the 
duties  of  life  from  the  text  :  '  Be  diligent  in  business,  fer- 
vent in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord.'     Little  Pearl,  as  I  call 


108  THE    STORMY   PETREL. 

her,  is  near  me,  kneeling  upon  the  rug,  with  pencil  and 
paper  on  a  chair,  'writing  to  Uncle  Frank.'  I  shall 
enclose  the  hieroglyphics,  which  you  must  decipher.  She 
is  a  winning  creatuie.  I  am  not  sure  I  should  be  so  con- 
tented here  if  her  bright  little  face  did  not  welcome  me  at 
the  door  every  day. 

"  There  seems  to  be  a  lull  in  Kansas  affairs  now  ;  why 
not  come  home  and  see  for  yourself  how  things  progress 
at  the  settlement  ? 

"  Do  you  get  any  news  from  Sam  ? 

"  Sincerely  your  friend, 

"  John  Stanley." 

Clayton  sat  musing  for  awhile  upon  the  possibility  of 
returning  to  Illinois.  This  vagrant  life  was  becoming 
tiresome,  and  he  longed  to  see  his  little  ward,  who  had 
found  refuge  from  the  storms  of  life  in  such  a  harbor. 

With  his  thoughts  still  in  a  reverie,  he  abstractedly 
broke  the  seal  of  the  remaining  letter  and  continued  to 
read,  when  suddenly  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  exclaiming, 
"  My  God  !  Petrel  kidnapped  by  Tom  Hawks,  the 
notorious  gambler  and  dealer  in  human  flesh  !  Heaven 
protect  her!  Let  me  see — since  August — two  months 
she  has  been  in  the  hands  of  that  human  fiend  !  " 

Maddened  at  the  thought  of  the  child's  peril  and  possi- 
ble fate,  Frank  strode  up  and  down  the  floor  in  an  agony 
of  agitation,  trying  to  compose  his  thoughts,  that  he 
might  determine  what  to  do  first — for  reclaim  her  he 
would — and  grasping  his  Colt's  revolver,  he  said  : 

"  Let  me  set  eyes  on  the  villain,  and  I'll  make  him 
bite  the  dust,  if  he  does  not  give  her  back  to  me  safe." 

At  this  moment,  he  heard  a  firm,  heavy  footstep 
approaching,  and,  looking  up,  saw  the  benign  face  and 
massive  form  of  John  Brown  standing  in  the  doorway. 

"  Oh,  my  friend,"  said  Clayton,  impetuously,  seizing 
his  hand,  "the  fiends  have  been  at  work  again." 

"  Why,  what  is  it,  my  boy.''  "  said  the  old  man,  kindly, 
putting  his  hand  on  Frank's  shoulder.  "What  has  hap- 
pened ?  " 

Then  he  listened  with  earnest,  kindling  eyes  as  the  out- 
rage was  recited  to  him,  saying  not  a  word,  but  slowly 
nodding  his  head  as  the  details  were  read  by  his  young 
friend  in  a  choking  voice.     But  the   deep  fires  did  not 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  IO9 

blaze,  they  only  smouldered,  as  he  said,  "  The  same  old 
story — wrong,  cruelty,  suffering  !  As  is  natural,  you  are 
thinking  of  the  child  who  is  so  dear  to  you,  but  /  am 
thinking  of  this  hideous  upas  tree,  which  poisons  the  blood 
of  the  nation,  converting  men  into  monsters."  Now  the 
fires  began  to  blaze,  as  he  strode  to  and  fro. 

"  Yes,  monsters,  Clayton,"  and  he  paused,  his  eyes 
shining  with  a  strange  light  and  fixed  upon  Frank's. 
"Now  listen;  and  remember  what  I  say.  Kansas  is 
merely  the  skirmish  ground  ;  the  battle  will  rage  through 
all  the  land  ;  the  soil  of  every  State  will  be  stained  with 
blood;  the  nation  will  be  shrouded  in  mourning  and  cov- 
ered with  ashes  ;  dead  men's  bones  will  bleach  upon  the 
field  of  carnage.  But  out  of  this  desolation,  blood,  and 
ashes,  shall  arise.  Phoenix-like,  a  republic  in  which  jus- 
tice and  mercy  shall  rule  and  all  men  shall  be  free  and 
equal.  But,"  he  added,  in  a  softened  tone,  and  taking 
Frank's  hand  in  his,  "do  not  think  I  am  unsympathetic, 
my  dear  boy;  but  I  see  so  much  in  all  this — so  much 
more  than  others  seem  to  see — that  I  feel  as  if  a  great 
burden  was  laid  upon  me  which  I  must  bear  for  the  rest 
— but  let  it  go,  let  it  go,"  and  he  passed  his  hand  through 
the  halo  of  gray  hair  which  glistened  in  the  sunlight. 

"  Now  let  us  think  what's  to  be  done,"  and  with  a  sort 
of  practical  determination  he  sat  down  by  the  table,  and 
drawing  paper  and  pen  before  him,  said  :  "  You  must  go, 
of  course,  at  once ;  and  if  your  clever  young  friend, 
Duvall,can  go  with  you,  so  much  the  better.  I  will  look 
after  your  matters  here  ;  so  just  tell  me  briefly  what  I  can 
do  about  Sam,  and  I  will  make  a  memorandum  of  it." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Brown,  how  kind  !  With  all  you  have  to  do 
here,  I  could  not  ask  you " 

John  Brown  waved  his  hand  in  reply  to  this  protest. 

"  No  time  to  be  lost ;  go  on,"  said  he. 

So  Frank  speedily  gave  him  all  the  clues  and  their  plan 
of  procedure  regarding  Sam,  and  left  everything  in  his 
hands.  "  Duvall  will  remain  where  he  is  and  be  in  com- 
munication with  you.  I  think  it  is  better  so,  as  emer- 
gencies may  arise  here  which  would  impose  too  much 
upon  you.  Thank  you,  my  dear  friend,  for  all  that  you 
have  done." 

He  hastened  to  Kansas  Cit}',  and  after  a  hurried  inter- 
view with  Claude,  confiding  to  him  the  new  and  dreadful 


no  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

trouble,  charged  him  to  confer  with  Mr.  Brown  as  with 
himself.  "Trust  him  as  you  would  the  Apostle  Paul," 
were  his  last  words. 

The  steamer's  whistle  blew  ;  he  hurried  on  board  and 
was  borne  down  the  river  at  a  rapid  rate,  though  slow 
indeed  compared  with  his  desires.  As  a  precautionary 
measure,  he  stopped  at  St.  Charles  and  made  inquiries  at 
the  hotel,  where  he  learned  of  Hawks'  previous  visit 
there  and  of  his  efforts  to  obtain  Clayton's  address.  He 
also  learned  that  Crank  had  disappeared  with  Hawks, 
and  it  was  reported  that  he  was  in  his  emplo3^  The 
landlady  was  distressed  at  the  fate  of  little  Petrel,  and 
described  to  Frank  the  Quaker  gentleman  who  seemed 
so  interested  in  the  story. 

"The  scroundel,"  said  he,  through  his  closed  teeth. 
"We'll  run  him  down  ;  we'll  corner  him  like  a  rat." 

He  concluded  it  would  be  well  to  see  John  Stanley 
before  doing  anything,  so  directed  his  steps  to  the  Colony, 
where  his  arrival  produced  great  rejoicing,  mingled  with 
lamentations  over  the  loss  of  Petrel. 

Aunt  Eliza  seemed  to  feel  that  she  was  responsible  for 
the  loss  of  her  charge,  and  was  overwhelmed  with  distress. 

"  I'se  been  bery  misfortent  old  nigger,  Mars  Frank.  I 
done  try  to  do  all  I  promise.  'Twould  done  yer  heart 
good  to  a  seen  dat  chil'  afore  dey  took  her  away  f'om 
dese  yer  ban's.  Press  de  Lor',  I  warn't  gwine  ter  gib  her 
up  till  dat  officer,  he  took  out  he  pistol  and  say  dat  he 
gwinter  shoot  dis  nigger,  an'  dat  big  tall  debel  gemmen, 
he    kep'  sayin'  to  the  officer,    '  Why  don'  you   shoot  de 

d d  ol'  nigger  ef  she  don'  leg  go  de  chile?  '  an'  all  dis 

time  I  had  dese  two  arms  wrap'  roun'  her,  an'  if  you  be- 
lieve me,  dat  chil'  nearly  goed  inter  spasms,  she  was  so 
scart.  Well,  Mars  Frank,  'twould  a  broke  yer  heart  to  a 
seed  what  I  seed.  Mars  John  clare  broke  down,  but 
Laws,  dey  had  all  de  officers  an'  de  jedge  on  dey  side  an' 
dey  took   her  'way  f'om  him." 

Clayton  was  deeply  moved,  and  at  the  particulars  of  the 
outrage  from  Stanley,  he  decided  to  leave  at  once  for 
New  Orleans  and  search  for  the  villain  who  had  done  this 
deed.  So,  after  giving  a  few  necessary  orders,  he  took 
the  steamer  at  Perkins'  Landing  for  St.  Louis,  thence  to 
New  Orleans. 

After  registering  his  name   at  the   St.  Charles  Hotel, 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  Ill 

New  Orleans,  Frank  heard  a  genial  voice  say  :  "  Hello  ! 
is  that  you,  Clayton  ?  One — two — why,  I  believe  it's 
more  than  three  years  since  I  saw  you — and,  by  the  way," 
and  Captain  Swan  drew  him  confidentially  one  side,  "you 
know  Doctor  Barnes  and  your  uncle  have  been  lying 
low  for  that  man  Hawks." 

"  Hawks  ?  "  said  Frank,  with  a  start.  "  What  in  Heav- 
en's name  do  they  want  of  him  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  You  don't  know  about  it.'  Well,  they've  been 
mighty  close  about  it,  because,  you  see,  they  knew  if  they 
kept  quiet  he'd  come  back." 

"  Captain,  I  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about," 
said  Frank,  puzzled  and  bewildered 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain,  "  now  I've  told  so  much, 
you  may  as  well  know  the  rest." 

Frank  gave  his  hand  reassuringly.  "  Depend  on  me  for 
discretion.  And  I'll  tell  you,  by  the  way,  that  my  busi- 
ness here  is  to  find  that  scoundrel  Hawks  and  bring  him 
to  justice  on  my  own  account." 

"  No  !  "  said  the  captain,  astonished.  "  Well,  then, 
we'll  just  join  forces.  That's  pretty  good,  pretty  good," 
and  he  laughed  with  satisfaction. 

"  Well,  you  see,  it's  this  way.  When  Harry  Barnes 
died,  his  uncle,  the  doctor,  was  laid  up  with  a  broken  leg, 
and  it  was  some  time  before  he  began  to  suspect  that 
there  had  been  some  sort  of  foul  play  with  the  boy.  So, 
soon  as  he  was  able,  he  went  and  talked  to  his  lawyer, 
and  mighty  carefully  they  worked  up  the  case.  Sure 
enough,  when  they  had  the  remains  exhumed  and  ana- 
lyzed there  was  poison  in  his  stomach,  enough  to  kill  him 
and  to  convict  his  murderer.  Hawks  had  disappeared  ; 
so  they  concluded  to  wait  and  to  throw  them  all  off  the 

scent  by  not  seeming  to  care  a what  had  become  of 

him.  Why,  bless  your  soul,  it  was  the  clearest  case — 
but  to  go  on.  Last  week  I  had  a  letter  from  the  doctor, 
saying  the  old  fox  was  back — had  been  up  the  river  some- 
where and  would  walk  straight  into  the  trap  if  we'd  set 
it ;  and,  by  George,  if  I  haven't  got  the  warrant  for  his 
arrest  this  minute  in  my  pocket,  and  three  or  four  men 
watching  around  town  ;  for  he'll  come  here,  sure's  my 
name's  Swan.  They're  keeping  an  eye  on  that  man  Ray, 
Colonel  Ray,  for  they're  great  chums  and  will  turn  up  to- 
gether somewhere." 


112  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

As  he  was  speaking,  a  boy  came  up  and  placed  in  the 
captain's  hand  a  telegram,  which  read  thus  : 

"  Booneville.  Come  at  once ;  game  here."  Signed, 
"B." 

He  handed  it  to  Frank,  and  it  required  only  five  min- 
utes to  have  the  recently  arrived  trunk  brought  down- 
stairs again  and  once  more  placed  on  the  up-going 
steamer,  where  he  had  ample  leisure  to  relate  to  his  com- 
panion his  own  reasons  for  desiring  to  find  Mr,  Thomas 
Hawks. 

After  Dr.  Barnes'  recovery,  he  had,  as  related  by  Cap- 
tain Swan,  had  the  body  of  his  unfortunate  nephew  disin- 
terred and  the  stomach  and  liver  analyzed.  The  result 
showed  the  presence  of  a  poisonous  substance  sufficient 
to  produce  death.  The  facts  were  laid  before  a  grand 
jury,  together  with  the  testimony  of  the  clerk  and  bar- 
tender of  the  steamer  upon  which  Hawks  and  the  de- 
ceased were  passengers  on  that  fatal  trip.  The  bar-tender 
was  very  explicit  as  to  the  game  of  cards,  the  high 
stakes  played  for,  and  the  several  drinks  taken  and  their 
character;  also,  as  to  Barnes'  rational  condition  about 
eleven  o'clock,  and  that  an  hour  later,  with  but  one  drink 
intervening,  he  was  found  senseless  at  the  card-table  after 
Hawks  had  left  on  the  down  steamer,  taking  the  woman 
and  her  baby  with  him.  The  bar-tender  remembered  dis- 
tinctly the  order  for  the  two  brandies  and  sugar, — one 
weak  and  sweet,  with  a  litle  port  for  coloring.  The  bar- 
tender himself  took  the  drinks  to  the  private  room  where 
the  men  were  playing.  He  further  swore  that  Hawks 
took  the  dark  glass  and  turned  his  back  to  them  to  drink, 
when  he  suddenly  wheeled  about,  and  said; 

"  Hold  on,  Barnes,  you  like  yours  stronger,  and  this  is 
yours,"  and  exchanged  glasses. 

He  thought  at  the  time  there  was  something  put  from 
a  paper  in  his  pocket  in  the  glass,  but  could  not  say  posi- 
tively. 

On  this  testimony,  the  grand  jury  found  a  true  bill 
against  Thomas  Hawks  for  the  murder,  by  poison,  of 
Harry  Barnes,  on  the  steamer  "  Clermont  "  on  the  night 
of  — ,  i8— . 

On  this  indictment,  the  governor  of  the  State  issued  a 
requisition  on  the  governor  of  Missouri  for  the  said 
Thomas  Hawks,  as  information  had  been  given  the  parties 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  II3 

concerned  that  Hawks  had  been  seen  in  St.  Louis.  A 
fruitless  search  for  the  criminal  there  resulted  in  tracing 
him  to  Jefferson  City  ;  but  on  arriving  there,  the  bird  had 
flown.  It  was  said  that  he  made  his  home  at  one  of  the 
river  towns  below.  The  governor  of  Missouri  had  com- 
plied with  the  requisition  of  the  governor  of  Kentucky, 
and  issued  the  writ  for  Hawks'  arrest  and  empowered  the 
officers  to  serve  it  anywhere  in  the  State. 

It  soon  became  evident  that  Hawks  had  eluded  them, 
and  after  consultation  with  the  prosecuting  officer,  it  was 
decided  to  let  the  matter  drop,  and,  giving  the  impression 
that  the  prosecution  had  been  abandoned,  quietly  to  wait 
till  such  time  as  the  miscreant  should  return  of  his  own 
accord,  as  he  would  be  sure  to  do,  believing  the  thing  had 
blown  over  and  he  would  be  safe. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

On  the  following  Saturday  night  there  were  assembled 
in  a  well-furnished  and  lighted  room  in  the  rear  of  a  some- 
what pretentious-looking  brick  building  just  opposite  the 
Booneville  Hotel,  three  men,  talking  and  smoking,  each 
with  a  glass  freshly  poured,  when  a  smart  rap  was  heard 
upon  the  door,  followed  by  three  more,  equally  loud  and 
sharp. 

"  Who  in  thunder  can  that  be ! "  said  the  one  who 
seemed  to  be  the  host, — a  tall,  well-dressed,  dark  man  with 
long  black  mustache,  who  may  be  readily  recognized  as 
Tom  Hawks.  As  he  spoke,  his  eye  glanced  across  the 
table  to  two  men,  each  in  rank  and  station  far  below  the 
speaker,  but  having  the  appearance  of  sporting  men. 
These  two  men  also  arose,  and  one  of  them  remarked  : 

"  Colonel,  I  guess  Sly  has  forgotten  his  cue,  or  else 
he's  got  excited  and  hit  the  knocks  too  hard.  Shall  I 
open  the  door.' " 

"  No,  Mr,  Sparks,  not  by  a  d — n  sight.  If  he  can't 
remember  enough  to  give  one  moderate  knock  followed 
by  three  lighter  ones,  and  not  make  such  a  h— 1  of  a 
fuss,  he  can  stay  out,  d — n  him." 

Just  then,  the  knock  was  repeated,  followed  by  three 
light  taps,  and  the  door  was  opened  to  Sam  Sly. 

An  expression  of  anxiety  and  fear  was  visible  on  his 
face  as  he  came  to  the  table,  and  said  : 

"  I  be  d d,  Colonel,  if  there  is  not  something  wrong 

in  the  cards  to-night.     As  sure  as  we  are  here,  something 
is  up." 

Every  man  was  again  on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  leaving 
his  whiskey  untouched. 

"  Tell  us  quickly,  man !  "  said  Hawks,  walking  to  where 
Sly  stood,  and  putting  his  hand  on  his  shoulder  with  the 
grip  of  a  vise.  "  What's  the  matter  that  has  turned  your 
liver  white  to-night  ?  " 

"Who  says  I  have  a  white  liver?"  replied  Sam,  trying 
to  shake  off  the  hand. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  II5 

"I  say  you  look  like  a  frightened  girl.     Now  tell  ine 

what  you  saw,  and  that  d d  quick.     I  am  getting  tired 

of  this  d d  nonsense.     Now  to  the  point  at  once." 

"  Since  you  are  in  such  a  hurry,  I'll  tell  you  there  are 
three  men  over  at  the  hotel  just  arrived,  and  two  of  them 
are  officers  with  warrants,  for  I  heard  them  talking  of 
probable  resistance  ;  something  about  a  requisition  from 
some  governor,  I  think  he  said  of  Kentucky  ;  and  I'm 
pretty  sure  your  name  was  mentioned  in  the  conversation 
as  well  as  my  own.  They  have  been  making  inquiries 
and  learned  our  association  together,  and  may  be,  our 
location  as  well !  " 

"  How  do  you  know  these  men  are  officers  of  the  law  ?  " 
anxiously  inquired  Hawks. 

"  I  saw  their  papers  through  the  key-hole.  I  happened 
to  be  in  an  adjoining  room  and  heard  them  comparing 
notes." 

"  And  who  was  the  third  party  .''  You  say  there  were 
three  of  them." 

*' Well,  Colonel,  I  couldn't  say  positively  who  the  third 
party  is;  but  I  have  my  suspicions,  from  seeing  his  long 
stride  as  he  walked  across  the  room  giving  directions  as 
though  he  were  the  commander  of  the  expedition,  whatever 
it  is.  I  think  I  recognized  the  voice  of  the  man  too,  but  I 
hope  I  am  mistaken.  We  shall  see  all  too  soon,  per- 
haps." 

"Tell  me  who  you  suspect.-"'  said  Hawks,  impatiently, 
'•and  let  us  drink  the  whiskey  waiting  for  us.  Here,  Ben, 
pour  out  a  drink  for  this  man  to  give  him  courage  to  tell 
his  fears." 

"  If  my  suspicions  are  well-founded,  Colonel,  neither 
you  nor  I  can  find  much  ground  for  rejoicing." 

"  You  be  d d,  Sly,  there  is  no  man  living  or  dead  that 

I  am  afraid  of :  so  here's  to  the  new-comers,  whoever  they 
are,  and  we  will  give  them  a  warm  reception ;  eh,  boys  ?  " 

"  That  we  will.  Colonel,"  was  the  response  of  all,  as  they 
drained  the  glasses. 

"  Well,"  said  Sly,  "  we  can  give  them  about  as  good  as 
they  send, — seeing  there  are  four  of  us." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so  much,  Sly.  Now  tell  us 
the  name  of  this  Ogre,  who  has  frozen  your  courage  and 
manhood  up  in  your  boots." 

■'  Colonel  Hawks,  I  am  not  more  easily  frightened  than 


Il6  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

you  are,  but  let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Frank  Clayton  isn't  one  to 
be  hunting  for  us  with  two  officers  of  the  law  on  a  child's 
errand.  He  is  in  terrible  earnest,  and  told  the  officers  to 
look  well  to  their  arms  before  attempting  to  serve  their 
warrants,  and  then  he  added  :  '  Don't  hesitate  to  use  them, 
if  any  resistance  is  offered.'  " 

At  the  mention  of  Clayton's  name.  Sparks  quailed  per- 
ceptibly, and  a  slight  shade  passed  over  Hawks'  brow  as 
he  involuntarily  put  his  hand  on  his  pistol  ;  and  when  Sly 
had  ceased  speaking,  he  dryly  remarked  : 

"  We  all  mean  business,  and  I,  for  one,  don't  propose  to 
be  taken  alive.  Here,  fill  up  the  glasses,  and  we'll  keep 
our  spirits  up  by  pouring  spirits  down." 

Just  then,  the  tramp  of  feet  was  heard  outside  the  door, 
and  a  heavy  knock  sounded  through  the  room.  The 
brimming  glasses  were  set  down  hastily,  and  each  man's 
hand  reached  for  his  pistol. 

"  Who's  there  .''  "  demanded  Hawks,  gruffly. 

"  An  officer  of  the  law,  with  a  warrant  for  the  arrest  of 
Thomas  Hawks,"  responded  the  officer  outside,  "  and  in 
the  name  of  the  law  and  by  the  authority  of  the  governor 
of  Missouri,  I  demand  admittance." 

"  And  suppose  we  tell  you  he  is  not  here  and  that  you 
can't  have  admittance." 

"  Then  it  becomes  our  duty  to  break  down  the  door 
and  make  a  thorough  search  of  the  premises." 

"I  think  you  had  better  do  your  duty  then,  sir;  but 
before  you  begin,  let  me  warn  you  there  are  four  of  us  in 
here,  well-armed,  and  we  propose  to  kill  the  first  man 
who  enters  the  room." 

"Yes,  and  yer  can  bet  I'll  git  the  second  one,"  roared 
Ben  Baugh,  so  as  to  be  heard  through  the  hall. 

Then  stillness  reigned  for  a  moment ;  and  the  officer 
said  in  a  firm,  loud  voice  : 

"  Mr.  Clayton,  and  you,  good  citizens,  I  command  you,  in 
the  name  of  the  law,  to  aid  in  the  execution  of  this  writ." 

Then,  after  trying  the  locks  which  were  found  secure, 
there  was  a  whispered  conference  and  it  was  arranged 
that  the  three  men  draw  their  pistols,  step  back  a  few 
paces,  and  run  full  force  against  the  door,  breaking  it 
down,  and  land,  all  at  once,  in  the  room,  taking  the  enemy 
by  surprise. 

Inside,  the  men  were  ranged,  Hawks  and  Sly  in  front 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  II7 

of  the  door ;  on  one  side  of  the  table  stood  Ben  Baugh, 
and  upon  the  other  was  Sparks,  all  with  pistols  drawn  ;  and 
upon  the  table  were  two  large  bowie  knives  unsheathed, 
with  their  blades  glittering  ominously  in  the  light. 

On  the  outside,  the  three  men  ranged  themselves  side 
by  side  in  the  wide  hall,  and  at  the  words,  "One, — two, — 
three," — they  went  thundering  against  the  door,  which,  as 
they  had  calculated,  gave  way  with  a  crash,  and  the  three 
men  rushed  into  the  room  pell-mell  and  were  met  by  a  vol- 
ley of  shots  and  bitter  oaths  ;  but  above  the  din  was  heard  : 
"  In  the  name  of  law,  I  command  you  all  to  surrender," 
to  which  there  was  no  answer  save  from  the  mouths  of  the 
pistols.  Then  came  groans  and  shrieks  of  anguish  out  of 
total  darkness,  for  the  table  had  been  overturned  and  the 
lights  exlinguisiied.  Out  of  the  inky  background  now  and 
then  there  shot  forth  a  lurid  flame  of  fire  and  sulphurous 
smoke,  laden  with  a  messenger  of  death  aimed  only  at  a 
voice  or  the  sound  of  footsteps. 

"  Cease  firing,  I  command  you  in  the  name  of  the  law," 
shouted  the  officer,  "  if  you  expect  mercy." 

"I  neither  receive  nor  show  it,"  said  a  man  in  a  harsh, 
unnatural  voice,  from  the  floor  in  one  corner  of  the  room, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  a  flash  of  the  pistol  revealed  Tom 
Hawks  lying  on  the  floor,  resting  upon  one  elbow,  firing 
as  best  he  could  to  the  last. 

"  Shoot  the  scoundrel,"  shouted  the  officer,  as  he  leveled 
his  pistol  and  fired  in  the  direction  where  Hawks  lay. 

A  scream  of  anguish  came  back  like  an  echo,  and  all 
was  still. 

"I  surrender,  Mr.  Clayton,  I  surrender,"  said  one  of 
the  desperate  men. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  asked  the  officer,  as  a  light  was 
brought,  revealing  Sparks  crouched  on  the  floor  in  one 
corner  of  the  room,  still  holding  his  smoking  pistol. 

'•  Lay  down  your  arms,  then,  if  you  surrender,"  replied 
the  officer,  stepping  forward  and  placing  his  hand  upon 
the  crouching  man's  shoulder. 

Then,  looking  around.  Hawks  was  found  covered  with 
blood,  lying  upon  the  floor,  with  a  wound  in  the  left  breast 
and  one  in  the  hip,  with  blood  flowing  from  his  mouth 
freely. 

"This  is  the  man  we  are  seeking,"  said  Clayton,  ap- 
proaching, with  his  left  hand  pressed  tightly  to  his  side. 


Il8  THE   STORMY    PETREL, 

"  In  God's  name,  I  hope  he  is  not  dying;  at  least,  that 
he  may  live  to  speak.  Bring  water,  quickly  !  Let  us  re- 
vive him,  if  possible.     He  must  speak  !  " 

"  Wash  out  his  mouth,  and  give  him  a  little  of  that 
brandy  I  see  upon  the  side  table,"  said  the  officer. 

After  repeated  applications  of  brandy  and  water. 
Hawks  opened  his  eyes  as  Clayton  bent  over  him  with 
spoon  and  glass.  A  strange  light  shone  in  his  eyes, 
which  were  sunken  under  a  threatening  black  brow,  such 
as  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning,  may  have  flashed  back 
upon  the  battlements  of  heaven  when  cast  in  the  pit. 
The  lips  moved  as  though  he  would  speak,  but  no  words 
came. 

"Take  this,"  said  Clayton,  "  it  will  revive  you,"  placing 
the  spoon  in  his  mouth,  when  the  teeth  were  shut  like  a 
vise,  fairly  crushing  the  spoon. 

"  Tell  me  where  you  have  put  that  child.  Come,  tell — 
and  undo,  as  much  as  you  can,  the  great  wrong  you  have 
done." 

Again  the  lips  moved  convulsively  as  if  to  speak, 

Clayton  put  his  ear  down,  and  said  : 

"  Do  try  and  tell  me  before  it  is  too  late,  and  may  God 
have  mercy  upon  your  soul." 

In  a  broken,  choked  whisper,  there  hissed,  as  if  from  the 
iron  jaws  of  death,  the  words  : 

"  I  wish  I  could  spit  in  your  damned  face  before  I 
die  !" 

It  seemed  as  though  his  whole  remaining  strength  and 
life  had  been  concentrated  and  exhausted  in  the  ferocious 
message.  The  fire  faded  from  the  eye,  the  lips  were 
compressed,  and  with  a  slight  convulsion  of  his  frame, 
death  claimed  another  victim. 

As  Clayton  leaned  over  the  dying  wretch,  the  glass  and 
spoon  slipped  from  his  hand  to  the  floor;  everything  grew 
dark,  and  he  fell  forward  across  the  prostrate  form  of  his 
deadly  enemj'. 

On  lifting  the  fainting  man,  his  left  hand  fell  from  hi'^ 
side  followed  by  a  stream  of  blood,  the  first  intimation  of 
his  wound.  The  surgeon  who  had  been  summoned  for 
Hawks  arrived  in  good  season  for  a  different  patient,  as 
the  other  had  gone  beyond  his  reach. 

Restorati'^es  were  applied  to  the  wounded  man.  and  he 
was  removed  to  a  quiet  room  at  the  hotel,  borne  upon  the 


THE   STORMY   PETREL,  I  19 

door  which  he  had  so  recently  and  bravely  helped  to 
break  down. 

Upon  lifting  the  table,  the  body  of  Sam  Sly  was  found 
with  a  bullet-hole  in  the  temple.  He  was  still  grasping 
his  revolver,  which  had  but  one  empty  chamber,  showing 
he  fell  at  the  first  fire. 

Ben  Baugh  and  Sparks  were  both  taken  into  custody, 
charged  with  resisting  an  ofBcer  in  the  discharge  of  his 
duty,  and  assault  "with  intent  to  kill." 

The  coroner  held  an  inquest  upon  the  dead  bodies,  and 
a  verdict  was  rendered  by  the  jury  that  "  death  ensued 
from  pistol-shot  wounds  inflicted  by  officers  of  the  law 
•in  the  proper  discharge  of  their  duty." 

Sparks,  who  was  no  longer  employed  by  Judge  Stan- 
ley, confessed  to  having  aided  Sly  in  the  kidnapping  of 
Sam,  but  didn't  know  to  whom  he  had  been  sold. 

The  sentences  in  the  case  of  each  man  were  made  as 
light  as  the  law  permitted. 

In  a  darkened  chamber  in  the  hotel,  Frank  Clayton 
was  lying,  the  pulse  of  life  feebly  fluttering  at  its  centre. 

The  wound  in  his  side  had  been  probed,  and  it  was 
found  that  the  ball  had  passed  out  without  striking  any 
vital  part  or  fracture  of  the  bones  ;  but  there  had  been 
great  loss  of  blood.  The  first  night  the  patient  appeared 
to  be  sinking  ;  the  effect,  the  physicians  stated,  of  pros- 
tration of  the  nervous  system  ;  but  in  twenty-four  hours 
there  was  a  change;  nature  seemed  to  rally  all  her 
forces  and  in  the  morning  the  doctor  found  instead  of 
fever  having  set  in  as  he  expected,  the  pulse  was  weak 
but  regular,  and  sleep  brought  renewed  strength  to  the 
sufferer. 

Youth  and  a  constituion  that  had  never  been  taxed  or 
broken  by  excesses  now  came  to  the  aid  of  the  physician. 

Temperance  and  kindred  virtues  brought  their  reward 
to  the  life  that  had  trembled  in  the  balance  and  now  gave 
fresh  light  in  the  eye  and  color  to  the  pallid  cheek.  Con- 
valescence seemed  like  the  magic  transformation  that 
nature  repeats  every  spring,  clothing  the  fields  and  for- 
ests in  beauty.  The  excitement  and  mental  distress  of 
the  last  few  weeks,  which  had  culminated  in  that  night  of 
bloodshed  and  the  curses  of  the  dying  criminal,  were  fol- 
lowed by  what  seemed    a  Rip  Van  Winkle-like   nap  to 


I20  THE    STORMY   PETREL. 

Clayton,  and  he  awoke  with  a  more  quiet  pulse  to  a  new 
lease  of  life.  It  was  happiness  to  live  and  breathe  and 
look  at  the  blue  sky  and  drifting  clouds  from  his  window. 
The  past  was  a  dream ;  a  night-mare  he  would  not 
recall. 

The  doctor  was  proud  of  his  patient's  recovery,  without 
fever  or  the  many  ills  that  wounded  flesh  is  heir  to,  and 
he  ascribed  Clayton's  restoration  to  his  own  skill.  One 
morning  he  was  surprised  at  finding  his  patient  up  and 
dressed,  ready  for  a  walk,  but  he  compromised  with  a 
drive,  and  soon  the  day  was  fixed  for  his  departure. 

The  duties  of  life  must  be  taken  up  and  search  made 
for  little  Petrel,  whose  captor  had  died  and  made  no  sign 
that  would  lead  to  her  recovery. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Three  weeks  from  the  day  of  Clayton's  arrival  at 
Booneville,  he  went  clown  to  take  the  steamer  for  St. 
Louis.  Standing  upon  the  wharf,  his  attention  was 
attracted  by  a  man  limping  badly,  making  his  way  toward 
the  boat,  holding  by  the  hand  a  little  girl,  apparently  one 
of  the  poor  whites,  with  bare  feet  and  a  sun-bonnet  drawn 
over  her  head.  Something  about  the  child,  and  the  man- 
ner of  the  man,  caused  Clayton's  eye  to  follow,  and,  like 
a  flash,  it  occurred  to  him  that  it  could  be  none  other 
than  Crank,  the  lame  fisherman  of  St.  Charles,  who  had 
testified  against  Hawks  at  the  trial.  With  his  eye 
fixed  on  the  halting  figure  as  he  was  jostled  here  and 
there,  nearing  the  gang-plank,  he  tried  to  overtake  him. 
The  din  and  cursing  of  the  draymen  and  boat  hands,  all 
crowding  to  and  fro,  were  at  that  moment  joined  by  the 
steamer's  whistle  blowing  her  last  call  for  '  all  aboard.' 
He  saw  the  man  start  on  the  gang-plank  just  as  the  men 
were  rushing  on  shore  for  the  last  freight,  and  the  passing 
throng  jostling  him,  he  lost  his  balance  and  went  with  a 
loud  splash  into  the  water,  bearing  with  him  the  little 
girl. 

Then  went  up  a  shout  :  "  Man  overboard  !  Man  over- 
board !     Boat  ahoy." 

All  was  confusion,  and  Clayton  was  just  in  time  to  see 
the  sun-bonnet  floating  away  down  stream.  He  forgot 
all  medical  advice  as  to  remaining  "  quiet  and  avoiding 
excitement,"  and  with  one  bound  plunged  into  the  river 
and  grasped  the  child  as  she  came  up  after  disappearing 
under  the  water.  With  a  few  strokes,  he  reached  the 
shore,  and  to  his  joy  and  the  surprise  of  all,  the  old  man 
still  held  the  other  hand  of  the  child.  Both  were  drawn 
out  and  placed  on  board  the  steamer  and  soon 
revived.  Clayton  was  taken  up  in  a  greatly  exhausted 
and  almost  unconscious  condition,  and  placed  in  a  state- 
room ;  a  physician  was  sent  for,  who  gave  him  medical 
attention.     After  an  hour's  rest,  he  said  he  wished  to  see 


122  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

the  man  whom  he  had  rescued.  Crank  was  found  near 
the  room  door,  waiting  anxiously  to  hear  from  his  bene- 
factor. 

"  Well,  stranger,"  said  Crank,  as  they  were  left  alone, 
"  you've  give  me  a  helpin'  han'  out  o'  the  water  ;  now 
what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Crank,"  said  Clayton,  "  don't  you  know  me  ?  " 

"  Bless  my  eyes,  if  it  ain't  Mr.  Clayton  ;  an'  I've  been 
studyin'  how  ter  fin'  you." 

"  What  child  was  that  ? — tell  me,"  said  Clayton  eagerly. 

Without  a  word  the  man  limped  out  of  the  room,  and 
then  returned,  leading  by  the  hand  a  little  girl,  in  a  coarse, 
homespun  gown  which  the  chambermaid  had  put  on  her  in 
place  of  the  wet  garments.  Her  feet  were  bare,  and  her 
hair  still  wet. 

"  God  be  thanked  !  "  said  Clayton,  as  he  saw  the  little 
creature  actually  before  him.  The  soft  eyes  were  timidly 
averted,  as  if  she  knew  not  what  dreadful  thing  might  be  in 
store  for  her.    Her  pathetic  docility  almost  unmanned  him, 

"  Petrel,  darling,  said  he,  "  come  to  Uncle  Frank." 

Swift  as  lightning  the  face  turned  to  his,  and  with  a  cry 
and  a  bound,  she  was  in  his  arms. 

Crank  limped  away  and  wiped  his  eyes  with  his  sleeve, 
looking  out  of  the  window  to  recover  himself. 

"  Wall,"  he  said,  I  s'pose  it's  nat'ral  ;  she's  knowed  him 
longer'n  me  ;  but  I  did  think  p'r'aps  she'd  kinder  like  to 
stay  with  me  some." 

"  Crank,"  said  Clayton,  from  the  sofa,  "  come  here  and 
give  me  your  hand.  You  have  brought  me  what  1  most 
longed  to  see  in  this  world.  Now  sit  down  there  and  tell 
me  all  about  it.  I  have  heard  how  you  tried  to  upset  that 
scoundrel  at  the  trial,  but  I  want  to  hear  your  account  of 
it." 

"  Well,  you  see,"  he  answered,  uneasily,  "  I  ain't  bin 
altogether  what  ye'd  call  a  good  sort  of  a  man  ;  but 
p'r'aps  that's  my  bringin'  up,  p'r'aps  I  ain't  so  very  far 
from  the  averidge." 

"  Very  likely,"  said  Clayton,  smiling  reassuringly. 

"  Well,  yer  see,  I  needed  money  pretty  bad,  and  I 
ihort  if  Hawks  wanted  to  git  back  his  nigger,  which 
was  his  own  property,  I  was  willin'  to  lend  er  hand — 
and  so — yer  see — he  gave  me  considerable  monev,  an  I 
didn't     take    all    the    wickedness    of    it    in     till    I    seed 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  1 23 

this  ere  little  un's  piterful  face  in  the  court-room, 
an'  I  jis  broke  clown  ?  Why,  Mr  Clayton,  when  she 
put  that  little  sof  han'  in  mine  an'  loked  so  'pealin' 
like,  I  just  vowed  in  my  heart  that  this  little  chicken 
should  never  git  in  the  clutches  of  that-are  '  hawk  ' 
an'  so,  I  out  with  the  truth.  How  he  swore  that 
he'd  'throw  her  in  ther  ice  ef  some  one  didn't  kotch 
her,  an'  how  he  heaved  her  high  in  ther  air,  an'  a 
tall  man  on  shore  kotched  her  on  the  fly.'  That  fel- 
ler Hawks  looked  as  though  he'd  murder  me  when 
I  sed  this,  but  he  smoothed  it  over  to  the  jedge 
by  takin'  a  paper  outer  his  pocket.  '  There,'  said 
he  'is  the  bill-of-sale  of  the  mother  and  chile.' 

"  Are  you  sure  he  said  the  mother  and  child. 
Crank }  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  he  said  jis  them  words.  '  It  seems  to 
be  all  reg'lar,'  said  the  jedge,  '  an'  you  had  a  right 
ter  do  what  yer  pleased  with  the  young  un.'  Well, 
when  I  seed  how  things  was  a  goin'  and  heerd  the 
screams  of  that  baby  as  she  was  kerried  off,  I  jis'  slunk 
away  and  got  on  the  steamer,  down  with  the  boxes 
and  bar'ls  in  the  hold  and  got  my  passage  as  a  stow- 
away on  the  same  steamer  with  that  nigger  trader 
and  child.  I  kep  well  out  o'  his  way,  for  I  knowed 
he'd  murder  me,  but  I  went  on  shore  at  Jefferson 
City  after  dark  and  tracked  'im  to  Mrs  Hunter's, 
his  sister's,  house.  He  lef  the  young  un  thar,  an' 
I  watched  her  sittin'  so  sorrowful  in  ther  yard 
with  the  little  niggers,  an'  the  little  thing  'membered 
me  bein'  in  ther  court  house  that  day  and  knowed 
I  was  her  friend,  and  she  jist  clung  to  me  in  a 
way  to  make  yer  heart  ache.  So  when  news  come 
that  Tom  Hawks  was  shot  I  told  the  young  un'  ef 
she'd  creep  thro'  the  fence  we'd  try  an'  fin'  Mr.  Clay- 
ton down  to  St.  Charles.  So  she  picked  up  an  ol' 
sun-bonnet  an'  put  it  on  her  head  an'  then  we  went 
down  to  the  steamer.  At  Booneville  I  went  on  shore 
with  the  child  to  buy  her  a  pair  o'  shoes,  but  some- 
how we  got  pushed  off  by  the  crowd  in  gittin'  aboard 
agin,  an'  the  new  shoes  an  ol'  sun-bonnet  was  lost 
in  the  water.  An'  that's  jest  all  ther'  is  about  it. 
An'  of  course  it's  nat'ral  for  her  to  like  you  bet- 
ter'n   me,  of  course — but    she  kinder    took    ter    me,    an' 


124  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

it  was  pleasant  ter  think  somebody  cared,  yer  no — an' 
I —  "  Here  Crank's  feelings  got  the  better  of  his  rhet- 
oric ;  and  Clayton  said  : 

"  Cheer  up,  old  fellow ;  you've  been  faithful  to  this 
innocent  child,  and  you  will  never  have  reason  to  be 
sorry  for  it." 

"  But,  Mr.  Clayton,  please  don't  sen'  me  'way  f'om  her. 
She's  the  only  livin'  crittur  that's  fon'  o'  me,  an'  when 
she  holds  onter  my  finger  with  her  little  sof  han'  I  could 
go  throo  fire  for  ter  serve  her  if  'twas  necessary." 

"By  George,  I  believe  you  would.  And  we'll  see  what 
can  be  done."  And  Frank  tried  to  move  the  head  of  the 
now  sleeping  child  into  a  more  comfortable  position. 
She  was  exhausted  with  the  excitements  of  the  day,  and 
the  pretty,  unconscious  face  bore  pitiful  traces  of  the 
rough  usage  of  the  last  few  months. 

"  Poor  darling,"  said  her  protector.  "Where  can  she 
go  ;  where  will  she  be  safe  ?  " 

He  thought  of  Kate,  and  was  inclined  to  make  the 
proposition  that  Petrel  should  share  the  nursery  of  her 
own  little  girl,  Katrina  Fletcher,  so  nearly  the  same  age. 
But  then,  he  thought, —  "Bernard  is  such  a  bear,  and  " — 
he  wanted  to  use  a  stronger  term — "  he  would  be  sure 
to  object."  He  was  quite  aware  of  the  tragic  sor- 
rows which  had  so  altered  the  course  of  his  cousin's 
life,  but  had  no  suspicion  of  Petrel's  association  with 
that  sad  story,  and  did  not  suspect  that  in  entertain- 
ing this  project  he  was  venturing  on  a  very  thin  crust 
over  volcanic  fires  ! 

"  Kate  would  be  just  the  one,"  he  thought,  "  to  love 
and  train  this  gentle  creature,"  And  his  hands  fondly 
caressed  the  clustering  curls. 

Finally  his  decision  was  taken  ;  it  seemed  as  if 
the  Catholic  Mission,  in  Kansas,  would,  all  consid- 
ered, be  the  best  and  safest  refuge.  He  decided  that 
Petrel  must  receive  the  care  and  education  befitting 
the  position  he  intended  to  give  her.  Those  kind 
sisters  would  spare  no  pains,  he  knew,  to  make  her 
happy ;  and  perhaps  he  could  manage  to  have  Crank 
employed  in  some  capacity  and  thus  reward  the  fel- 
low's fidelity  and  devotion  to  Petrel. 

All  was  arranged  happily.  The  late  "  Crank  "  was 
now    "Tom     Smith,"    gardener    and    man-of-all-work    at 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  1 25 

the  Convent.  Clayton  gave  instructions  that  no  expense 
must  be  spared  in  the  Httle  girl's  education  and  that 
she  must  be  surrounded  by  everything  that  would  de- 
velop love  for  the  beautiful,  the  good  and  the  true. 

Of  course  the  parting  with  "Uncle  Frank"  was 
another  strain  on  the  little  heart ;  but  an  atmosphere 
of  love  and  tender  care  soon  healed  the  wound,  and 
a  romp  in  the  garden  every  day,  where  Tom  filled 
her  little  basket  with  flowers,  was  not  without  its 
consolations.  Sister  Agnes,  to  whose  special  care  she 
was  consigned,  soon  occupied  a  large  place  in  the 
loving  nature  of  the  child. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

It  was  with  a  thankful  heart  that  Clayton  recited 
to  Duvall,  on  the  day  of  his  return  to  Lawrence, 
the  strange  and  exciting  events  which  led  up  to  the 
rescue  of  Petrel. 

"You  did  well,"  said  his  friend  with  approval; 
"  you  were  very  wise  to  place  the  leetle  maid  with 
those  good  ladies.  Ah  !  what  a  refuge  has  our  Church 
for  all  kinds  of  deestress  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  knew  you  would  approve  of  that,"  said  Frank, 
laughing.  "  You  know,  Duvall,  although  I  am  something 
of  a  heretic  myself,  I  like  to  encourage  right  belief 
and  faith  in  others,  I  think  it  is  a  blessed  thing 
and,  God  knows,  I  do  not  wish  to  implant  a  germ 
of  doubt  in  the  soul  of  another,  when  it  has  been 
such  a  tormenting  guest  in  my  own." 

"That  ees  ze  trouble  wiz  your  Protestantism,"  said 
Duvall,  impetuously.  "  When  one  wanders  from  the 
faith  Catholique,  the  door  ees  left  open  and  what  you  call 
vagarees  come  to  rush  een.  Philosophique — scientifique — 
all  verra  well,  verra  interesting"  {eentaresting  he  said) 
"I  like  them  m}3elf — these  speculations — but  not  like  ze 
consolations  of  religion." 

''  You  are  right,  quite  right,"  said  Frank  smiling  ;  "  and 
I  like  to  hear  you  defend  your  own  faith,  which  no  doubt 
you  love  quite  as  much  as  you  do  your  country." 

"Ah!  my  countree !  my  beautiful  countree ! "  said 
Claude,  rapturously.  "  Mr  Clayton,  do  you  know  the 
longing  which  sometimes  envelopes  my  soul  to  see  it  ? 
But  you  cannot.  How  can  you  understand  unless  you 
know  all  ! " 

Claude  had  never  before  spoken  so  freely  of  himself. 
Frank  watched  him  as  he  paced  the  fioor,  with  intense  de- 
sire to  ask  him  why  he  was  here — what  circumstances  had 
made  him  exile  himself  from  what  he  so  loved. 

"  Duval!/'  he  said  earnestly,  placing  his  hand  affec- 
tionately  on  the    handsome  youth's    shoulder,  "Claude, 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  12? 

you  are  very  dear  to  me,  and  whenever  you  can  trust  me 
with  this  I  shall  be  glad." 

The  dark  eyes  were  moist  now.  "  You  make  me  play 
the  woman,  Frank.  My  heart  would  many  times  break  in 
this  strange  land — all  so  different  from  my  own — did  I 
not  have  your  friendship.  Yes,  my  friend,  some  day  I  will 
tell  you.  But  it  ees  a  dark  story — to  make  you  weep,  not 
to  amuse  ;  and  you  have  your  own  troubles  and  need  not 
more." 

Frank  pressed  his  hand  in  unspoken  sympathy ;  and 
the  entrance  of  Mr.  Brown  changed  the  current  of  con- 
versation. 

Capt.  Brown  listened  with  eager  interest  to  the  story 
Frank  had  to  tell,  and  at  the  conclusion  uttered  a  heart- 
felt "God  be  thanked!" 

"  The  hand  of  Providence  is  apparent  in  finding  the 
child;  you  were  led — evidently  led — to  that  spot,  at  that 
very  moment.     Do  you  not  see  it  !  " 

"  It  did  seem  almost  a  miracle,"  said  Frank,  evasively. 

The  eyes  look  into  his  with  a  sad  earnestness  from 
under  the  heavy  overhanging  brows,  as  John  Brown  said  : 
"  My  dear  young  man,  why  do  you  not  recognize  this 
over-ruling  care  ?  I  am  grieved  to  see  you,  so  admirable 
in  most  respects,  yet  lacking  this  one  thing." 
•   "  What  can  I  do  ?  "  said  Frank, 

"  Cease  groping  in  the  light  of  human  reason  and  open 
your  heart  to  this  illumination  of  the  spirit  which  is  here," 
said  he,  with  a  sweep  of  his  arm,  "here  all  about  you. 
Abandon  that  cold  philosophy  of  yours." 

"  But,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Frank,  "  I  cannot  compel 
belief.  I  can  utter  the  last  part  of  the  Publican's  prayer  : 
'  Help  Thou  my  ?<;«-belief ; '  but  not  the  first.  If  I  said 
"  Lord,  I  believe,"  I  would  lie  ;  and  if  He  is  a  God  of 
truth,  He  would  be  sorry  to  hear  me  say  it."  Then  he 
added  earnestly  :  "  Mr.  Brown,  I  am  not  indifferent  to  this 
subject.  If  what  you  believe  is  true,  I  want  to  believe  it. 
He  knows  better  than  I  can  tell  Him  how  earnestly  I  seek 
the  truth,  I  once  had  your  simple  faith  and  was  happy  in 
it,  I  had  been  taught  that  the  Heavenly  Father  was  to 
man  as  his  earthly  parent  to  his  infant  state.  Then  when 
I  learned  the  awful  weight  of  human  misery  I  asked 
myself,  '  Can  this  be  a  loving  father,  who  has  the  power 
to   prevent  this    suffering,    and    does  not  ?     One    of   two 


128  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

things  must  be  :  either  he  is  not  all-powerful,  or  he  is  7iot 
a  loving  father.'  Then  the  belief  grew  within  me  that  the 
Creator  is  like  His  creatures  and  like  them  subject  to  law. 
Our  infant  minds  once  conceived  the  earthly  parent  to  be 
all  you  ascribe  to  the  Heavenly  Father,  but  in  after-life 
learned  that  the  parents  were  only  a  little  wiser  and  more 
powerful  than  ourselves  and  were  subject  to  the  same  laws 
which  govern  us.  The  God  of  law  says,  '  I  am  not  above 
the  law,  but  of  the  law  and  subject  to  its  operations,  and 
obey  its  mandates.  Seek  thou  me  through  the  law,  and 
come  thou  to  me  nearer  and  nearer,  upward  and  ever  on- 
ward.' I  know  well  that  good  comes  from  working  and 
waiting,  holding  yourself  ready  to  move  forward  in  the 
path  where  duty  points." 

"  No,  Mr.  Clayton,  your  cold  reasoning  only  obscures 
the  face  of  the  Heavenly  Father  from  your  vision.  His 
eye  is  ever  en  you,  His  loving  hand  guides  and  directs 
your  steps,  and  He  smiles  at  your  doubts,  and  will,  in  His 
own  good  time,  bring  you  to  see  His  love,  power  and 
glor}',  in  some  great  work  that  could  not  be  brought  about 
by  law  and  philosophy." 

"  May  I  be  permitted?"  said  Duvall.  '''' Pardon,  mon- 
sieurs,  mais  c'est  vrai.  That  is  so  true, — to  believe,  that 
is  the  only  rest  for  the  soul.  As  your  beautiful  poet  has 
said,  'Our's  not  to  reason  why.'  " 

"  Well,"  said  Frank  laughing,  "  with  you,  Mr.  Brown, 
and  Tennyson  against  me,  I  suppose  I  must  surren- 
der." 

"  Ah,  mon  cher,  si  vous  etiez " 

"Now,  Claude,"  interrupted  Clayton,  "  you  are  not  a 
Frenchman,  Why  will  you  insist  upon  speaking  French 
rather  than  English  ?  " 

"  Because,  monsieur,  in  Europe  it  is  the  common 
medium  in  which  all  the  educated  people  exchange  ideas. 
Are  you  not  just  a  leetle  narrow — prejudiced  ?  You  find 
the  English  language,  the  English  people,  the  best  in  the 
world,  eh  .?  " 

"  Well,  my  dear  fellow,  with  all  due  respect  for  the  an- 
tiquity of  the  Latin  races,  I  confess  the  Anglo-Saxon  does 
seem  to  me  the  one  destined  to  rule  the  earth  in  the  future. 
You  Latins  ought  to  be  satisfied,"  said  he,  laying  his 
hand  caressingly  on  his  friend's  shoulder,  "  you  have  had 
vour  turn  ;  now  it  is  ours.     And  it    seems  to  me  that  the 


tHE    STORMY   PETREL.  I29 

English-speaking  races  will  hold  a  peculiar  ascendancy  in 
the  ages  to  come." 

If  Claude  had  felt  any  irritation,  it  melted  beneath  the 
magnetism  of  Frank's  touch,  and  he  did  not  dispute  the 
claim  for  Anglo-Saxon  supremacy. 

After  the  little  diversion,  there  was  a  pause,  which  was 
at  length  broken  by  Capt.  Brown,  who  said  : 

"And  this  is  the  second  time  you  have  snatched  that 
child  from  drowning." 

"  Yes,"  said  Frank.  "  It  would  seem  as  if  some  malig- 
nant fates  were  luring  her  down  into  the  dark  waters.  I 
have  a  dread  a  sort  of  premonition  that  she  will  perish  in 
that  way." 

The  old  man  looked  at  him  silently  a  moment  and  then 
said,  impressively  : 

"Premonitions  are  strange  things,  strange,  very  strange 
things.  I  have  had  them  myself — but — our  business  is 
with  the  present,  not  the  future.  Things  here  are  assum- 
ing a  very  serious  shape,  Clayton.  Several  prominent 
citizens  have  been  indicted  for  offenses,  and  warrants  are 
out  for  their  arrest.  Anticipating  resistance,  the  United 
States  troops  and  the  militia  have  been  ordered  to  aid  the 
civil  authorities  in  the  execution  of  the  legal  processes. 
Bands  of  Missourians  are  camped  about  ready  to  pounce 
upon  us  the  moment  this  crew  of  thieves  and  scoundrels, 
brought  here  by  Sheriff  Jones  and  Governor  Shannon, 
shall  sound  the  charge." 

"Well,  from  what  I  have  seen  of  the  defences  in  prep- 
aration, I  fancy  they  will  not  be  in  a  hurry  to  storm  the 
town." 

"The  danger  is  not  from  the  militia  so  much  as  the 
United  States  troops,"  answered  the  captain.  "You  see 
they  obey  orders,  as  well  against  the  right  as  the  wrong. 
Friends  and  foes  are  unknown  to  machines  like  the 
United  States  soldiers." 

"Yes,"  said  Frank,  thoughtfully,  "that  is  the  danger; 
the  United  States  troops  ^'il!  be  the  Trojan  horse,  under 
cover  of  which  this  mob  of  border  ruffians  will  gain  ac- 
cess to  and  then  destroy  this  inoffensive  town." 

"That's  preciselv  it,"  said  Brown.  "Only  to-day  the 
Committee  of  Safety  decided  to  allow  the  United  States 
marshal  and  the  sheriff,  with  posses  of  United  States 
soldiers,  to   enter  the   town   and   arrest    any  citizens  for 


130  THE    STORMY   PETREL. 

whom  he  has  warrants,  I  protested  against  such  a  course, 
believing,  as  you  suggest,  that  the  mob  will  follow  the 
army,  and  once  safely  in  possession  and  power,  God 
knows  what  they  will  do." 

"Yet,  Captain,  you  must  not  forget  that  Governor 
Robinson  and  his  committee  of  citizens,  as  you  tell  me, 
must  either  pursue  this  course,  or  else  resist  the  United 
States  troops  and  civil  authorities,  which  is  no  light  re- 
sponsibility, and  would  entail  dire  consequences  to  the 
Free  State  cause  in  Kansas.  I  think  they  have  acted 
wisely." 

"  Mr.  Clayton,  in  the  sight  of  God  wrong  always  is 
wrong,  and  He  is  quite  able  to  take  care  of  consequences 
if  His  children  shall  bravely  do  their  duty." 

"  But  what  course  would  you- advise  ?  " 

"  I  would  have  the  sheriff  present  his  writs  of  arrest, 
and  make  demand  for  the  offenders  named  therein. 
Then  I  would  call  upon  these  citizens  to  come  forward 
and  surrender,  even  to  the  demands  of  unjust  laws.  Thus 
would  the  semblance  of  legal  right  of  entrance  be  de- 
stroyed, and  if  the  mob  persisted  after  this  in  forcing  in- 
gress, I  should  resist  to  the  last  drop  of  blood;  and  I 
believe  in  my  heart,  in  such  a  cause  God  can  and  would 
give  victory  to  the  right,  in  the  face  of  ten  times  the  odds 
that  now  exist." 

"  Now,  you  will  pardon  me  for  saying  that  I  think  some 
things  impossible  to  God,  and  that  it  is  a  well-established 
jDrinciple  in  war,  that  '  He  gives  victory  to  the  heaviest 
ordnance,'  and  that  we  must  not  hazard  all  on  the  justice 
of  our  cause." 

"  God  commands  us,  Mr.  Clayton,  '  to  resist  evil  and  it 
shall  flee  from  us.'  If  I  obey  this  command  in  the  face 
of  all  danger,  He  will,  in  His  own  good  way,  give  the  vic- 
tory to  the  right." 

"  Begging  your  pardon  again.  Captain,  I  think  as  I 
stated  before,  that  God  is  a  God  of  law,  and  He  com- 
mands us  to  know  the  law,  and  we  know  Him  in  propor- 
tion as  we  learn  the  law." 

"  My  dear  Captain,"  added  Frank,  rising,  and  laughing 
good-naturedly,  "I'm  afraid  you  think,  as  my  friend  Du- 
vall  here  does,  that  I'm  a  sad  renegade." 

Duvall,  always  awed  into  silence  by  the  presence  of 
Captam  Brown,  only  waved  his  hand  deprecatingly,  a  ges- 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  131 

ture  which,  if  translated,  would  have  meant,  "Whatever 
you  believe,  you  are  the  best  of  men  and  dearest  of 
friends." 

After  taking  leave  of  the  old  man,  the  two  younger  men 
sauntered  to  the  hotel. 

"That  is  one  grand  figure  heroique,''  said  Claude,  en- 
thusiastically. 

"Some  people  do  not  so  describe  him,"  said  Frank, 
dryly. 

Duvall  always  took  refuge  in  French  when  his  feelings 
overflowed  the  limits  of  his  English. 

"Bah!  Que  sonf-i/s?  Betes.'  I  see  always  around 
his  head  a  shining  aureola — like  a  saint." 

"Then  you  do  not  consider  him  a  crank  ?  "  Frank  said, 
with  apparent  seriousness. 

'"''  Excusez-inoi,  monsieur;  mais  I  hear  often  this  word, 
'crank.'  1  look  for  it  in  my  dictionnaire,  and  I  find  it 
not.  Please  have  the  goodness  to  tell  me  what  means  this 
word  '  crank.' " 

Frank's  laugh  rang  out  loud  and  merrily  on  the  silent 
street.     His  friend's  grave  question  was  so  comical. 

"  Well,  ril  tell  you  what  it  means,  Claude.  A  man 
who  does  not  think  as  other  people  do  is  a  crank." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  see,"  said  his  friend.  "  Well,  this  Meester 
Brown  he  certainement  does  not  think  the  same  like  other 
people ;  so  they  are  quite  right — he  is  a  crank.  And 
you,  monsieur,"  said  he,  with  a  droll  twinkle,  "■/I'est-ce pas 
que  vous  aussi — are  you  not  also  a  leetle  bit  of  a  crank  ? '' 

Frank  laughed  more  heartily  than  before,  and  con- 
fessed that  he  might  be  so  considered,  and  was  not  sorry 
to  be  so  classified,  inasmuch  as  the  mechanical  world  was 
moved  by  cranks,  and  the  moral  and  religious  world  was 
in  a  semi-stagnant  and  almost  decomposing  state  in  refus- 
ing to  be  so  turned  forward. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Frank  and  the  caplaiii  had  arranged  to  leave  the  town 
early  the  next  morning,  neither  feeling  that  he  could  wit- 
ness the  scenes  which  would  probably  accompany  the 
entree  of  the  troops.  Accordingly,  at  an  early  hour  the 
two  men  might  have  been  seen  walking  up  the  bank  of  the 
Kansas  River,  until  they  reached  a  raised  plateau  some 
few  miles  above  I<awrence,  where  they  halted  and  turned 
about  to  take  a  look  at  that  devoted  city  which  both  felt 
to  be  doomed.  Gazing  intently,  the  captain  pointed  his 
finger  in  the  direction  of  Mount  Oread  and  asked  in  a 
deep  tone  of  his  comjoanion  : 

"  Tell  me  what  you  see  there  with  your  glass  ?  " 

After  careful  scrutiny,  the  young  man  replied  : 

"  A  motley  crowd,  half  soldiers ;  the  rest  look  like 
bandits.  There  seem  to  be  flags  of  all  colors  and  clans, 
and — no — not  one — not  one  of  the  United  States  in 
sight." 

''  Clayton,"  said  the  captain,  "  I  came  all  the  way  from 
my  home  at  Ossawatomie  and  brought  with  with  me  three 
of  my  boys  and  several  of  my  neighbors  to  aid  the  people 
of  Lawrence  in  averting  this  humiliation,  and,  as  I  believe, 
this  impending  disaster,  and  they  have  denied  me  the 
pleasure  of  performing  this  duty.  The  responsibility  rests 
with  them.     I  have  done  my  part." 

All  day  long  these  two  men  walked  and  talked  in  sight 
of  this  hateful  band  and  its  helpless  victims  in  the  valley 
below. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  when  like  a  serpent  it  began  to 
wend  its  way  clown  the  hill  and  encircle  with  its  venomous 
coil  this  quiet  hamlet,  Captain  Brown  rose  from  the 
commanding  seat  he  and  his  companion  had  long  occu- 
pied in  silence. 

"  Come,  Clayton,  I  can  not  be  further  witness  to  this 
desecration." 

And  the  two  men  walked  as  before  in  silence,  to  a  point 
where  the  city  was    obscured,  and  yet  the  house  of  Gov. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL. 


^33 


Robinson  as  well  as  the  humble  cabin  of  Clayton  were 
plainly  discernible  against  the  southern  sky,  off  beyond 
Mount  Oread  and  the  green  fringe  of  timber  skirting  the 
Waukarusa  River. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  Clayton  observed  the  sky  assume 
a  lurid  hue  over  and  about  Lawrence,  and  said  : 

"  Captain,  I  see  our  worst  fears  are  being  realized,  as 
yonder  blood-stained  sky  is  ample  and  cruel  proof." 

"Hark,  do  you  hear  that  cannon  ?  "  inquired  Captain 
Brown,  springing  to  his  feet.  "  Can  it  be  there  is  at  last, 
when  too  late,  resistance  to  the  fiendish  mob  by  the 
citizens  ?  "  And  again  the  thunder  of  the  distant  cannon 
shook  the  ledge  of  rocks  upon  which  the  two  listening  men 
stood. 

"  Run,  Clayton,  with  your  glass,  scan  the  situation,  and 
see  if  there  is  aught  that  looks  like  defence  ;  for  God 
knows  I  would  rather  perish  with  them  in  a  hopeless 
resistance  than  share  this  shameful  humiliation  without  a 
blow  at  its  wicked  authors  !  " 

Soon,  Clayton  was  upon  the  eminence  from  which  they 
had  so  recently  retreated,  sweeping  the  valley  with  his 
glass  to  ascertain  the  source  of  the  strife. 

Before  him  lay  the  once  prosperous  town  of  Lawrence 
and  the  peaceful  valley  about  it,  now  in  the  coils  of  a 
drunken  and  debased  mob  who,  with  hearts  full  of  hate  and 
brains  on  fire  with  drink,  were  burning  houses  and  robbing 
the  people.  Helpless  women  with  babes  in  their  arms 
were  fleeing  from  the  minions  of  slavery,  maddened  to 
deeds  of  desperation.  The  cannon  could  be  seen  planted 
in  front  and  aimed  at  the  Free  State  Hotel,  manned  by 
men  too  drunk  even  to  hit  so  large  a  mark,  making  merry 
over  each  discharge  of  ordnance. 

"O  God,  what  a  sight!"  exclaimed  Clayton,  lowering 
Ills  glass,  and  slowly  retracing  his  steps  to  where  Captain 
Brown  stood  watching  him  with  eager  eyes.  Looking  in 
the  direction  of  Mt.  Oread,  he  observed  the  red  tongue  of 
fire  shootimg  up  from  Governor  Robinson's  house,  and 
thought,  "Yes,  I  expected  that;  and  mine  too,"  as  his 
eye  took  in  his  owai  cabin  in  flames. 

The  conflagration  grew  brighter  as  the  shades  of 
approaching  night  set  in  and  scores  of  fires  sprang  up  in 
every  direction,  as  the  enemy,  like  a  serpent,  unwound  its 
folds    from  the   ashes  and  ruins   of  the  fallen  citv,  and  re- 


134  THE    SrORMY    PETREL. 

treated  from  its  work  of  devastation,  leaving  a  fiery  track 
behind. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  see,"  said  the  old  man,  rising  and  stretch- 
ing himself  to  the  full  height  of  his  heroic  manhood.  With 
his  right  hand  resting  upon  the  sword-hilt,  he  shaded  his 
eyes  with  the  left:  gazing  intently  in  all  directions  upon 
the  illumined  sky,  he  burst  forth  into  what  seemed  a 
prayer  of  consecration  :  "  May  God  strengthen  my  arm 
to  avenge  this  dastardly  act  of  desecration,  as  He  did  that 
of  David  and  of  Joshua  !  " 

On  the  following  morning  Captain  Brown  joined  his 
sons  and  neighbors  at  Palmyra,  and  with  a  single  com- 
panion returned  to  Ossawatomie  in  all  haste,  in  answer 
to  a  special  messenger  from  home,  while  the  people  of 
Lawrence  proceeded  to  repair  as  well  as  possible  the 
devastation  of  the  preceding  day. 

The  Free  State  Hotel  was  pillaged  and  then  burned. 
The  ofifices  of  the  two  newspapers,  Herald  of  Freedom 
and  Free  Fress,"  were  looted,  presses  broken  and  type 
tlirown  into  the  street.  Many  of  the  most  prominent 
business  houses  and  dwellings  were  robbed  and  some  de- 
stroyed by  fire.  Men  and  women  moved  about  as  in  a 
city  of  the  dead. 

On  his  arrival  at  home  that  afternoon,  the  captain  was 
visited  by  a  negro  man,  and  the  following  conversation 
ensued  : 

"  Yer  see,  Mars  Cap'n,  I  done  heah  dem  mighty  bad  men 
down  in  Missouri  ,vhar  I  come  from  callin'  on  yo  name,  an' 
I  said  to  myself,  dey  doan  got  any  lub  for  de  old  Cap'n, 
an'  Jim,  you  can  jis  well  listen  ter  what  dey  gwinter  say. 
Well,  bress  yer  lite,  dey  tell  how  dey  make  all  deir  'range- 
ment  to  hab  a  messenger  man  wat  would  bring  dem  to 
yer  house  an'  to  de  oder  Yankees'  house  in  de  middle  ob 
de  night ;  an'  den  dey  gwinter  to  kill  de  las'  one  o'  you. 
Now,  Mars  Cap'n,  yer  better  not  be  ter  home  when  dey 
comes,  case  dey  gwine  to  hurt  you  suah  null  now.  Jim 
knows  dem  men  mighty  sight  better'n  yo'  does. 

Captain  Brown  sat,  an  attentive  listener  to  what  Jim 
was  relating,  and  finally  asked  : 

"  Did  you  learn,  Jim,  when  the  men  propose  to  make 
tliis  visit  ?  " 

"Yes,  sah.  Mars  Cap'n.  I  done  got  all  de  'ticlars 
ob  dem  fellers;  but  dey  an't  gwine  ter  pay  yer  no  visit. 


THE    STORMY   PETREL.  135 

No,  sail.  Dey  is  gwine  to  come  wid  big  knives  and  deir 
guns  all  loaded  with  buckshot  to  kill  yer  suah  nuff.  An' 
dey  is  comin'  dis  berry  night ;  case  I  heard  deni  say  dey 
gwinter  git  a  letter  from  de  man  what  is  ter  meet  dam  at 
de  ribber  crossin'  'cisely  at  dark,  an'  he's  gwine  ter  p'int 
out  der  Yankees  dat's  got  ter  be  killed.  All  deir  frien's 
'bout  heah  gwine  ter  stay  close  ter  home  on  dat  night. 
I  tell  yer.  Case  dey  say  dey  can't  do  de  killin'  an'  ba  to 
home  bofe  at  de  same  time.  So  dey  got  suah,  what  dey 
call  er  Albi. 

"You  are  sure,  Jim,  the  place  of  meeting  was  at  the 
crossing  ?  " 

''  Yes,  sah,  on  dis  side  de  ribber  an'  'cisely  at  dusk." 

After  some  further  conversation,  Jim  rose  to  leave,  and 
as  he  did  so,  the  captain  took  his  hand  cordially  and  said  : 

"God  bless  and  reward  you,  Jim  for  your  noble  deed, 
as  I  am  not  able  to  do.  And  if  it  were  not  for  your 
family  that,  you  say,  compels  your  return,  I  could  show 
and  aid  you  to  freedom.  Remember  this,  Jim,  if  ever 
j^ou  need  a  friend  and  I  can  be  that  one,  call  on  me.  All 
that  I  have  is  at  your  service,  for  you  have  saved  my  life 
and  that  of  my  friends. 

"Thanks,  Mars  Cap'n,  Jim  done  got  he  pay  already 
in  'lowin'  dese  eyes  ter  see  yer  and  dis  heah  han'  ter  tuck 
yourn,  an'  to  heah  de  voice  what  scare  so  many  ob  dam 
bad  men  in  talkin'  'bout  de  freedom  ob  da  niggers  as  dey 
says.  Now,  Mars  Cap'n,  yer  gwinter  be  on  de  look-out 
fer  dem  men  what's  comin'  ter  kill  yer?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Jim,  they  will  not  find  us  asleep  ;  be  assured 
of  that." 

An  old-fashioned  clock  struck  three  as  Jim  closed  the 
door  to  hurry  back  to  slavery. 

John  Brown  sat  thinking  for  some  time,  tired  as  he  was 
from  his  long  day's  ride.  Finally  he  said  to  his  faithful 
companion,  who  had  been  a  silent  spectator  and  auditor 
during  Jim's  wonderful  story: 

"Hal,  what  shall  we  do  in  this  matter  ?" 

Hal,  who  was  one  of  those  mercurial  men  who  think 
and  act  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning,  said  : 

"  Captain,  if  you  will  trust  me  with  this  affair,  I'll 
promise  to  turn  it  to  good  account  for  all  of  us.  Can  you 
do  it  ?  " 


136  THE   STORMY    PETREL, 

"Yes,  Hal,  I  have  trusted  you  before  and  you  never 
failed  me  ;  I  will  leave  all  to  your  management." 

On  this  same  evening,  as  the  sun  sank  Lelow  the  west- 
ern horizon,  a  solitary  horseman  rode  up  to  the  crossing 
of  the  Osage  River  and,  after  making  a  careful  exami- 
nation of  the  surroundings,  he  turned  his  horse's  head  in 
the  direction  of  the  dense  forest  that  skirted  the  stream, 
and  rode  out  of  sight. 

Soon  emerging  on  foot  at  the  edge  of  the  clearing, 
called  the  crossing,  he  carefully  concealed  himself  in  a 
clump  of  bushes  that  surrounded  the  base  of  a  large 
walnut-tree.  Half  an  hour  passed,  and  the  shades  of 
night  were  beginning  to  gather,  as  another  horseman  rode 
boldly  up  to  the  river's  edge.  He  gave  a  shrill  whistle 
and  then  sat  listening  to  the  echo  that  sounded  and  re- 
sounded through  the  still  forest. 

After  some  moments,  an  immense  owl  overhead,  hooted 
long  and  loud,  and  the  horseman  involuntarily  put  his 
hand  to  his  hat  as  if  to  keep  it  in  place. 

"  D — n  that  owl !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  I  always  did  h;ite 
them.  They  make  me  think  of  graveyards  and  ghosts. 
1  hope  his  note  is  not  one  of  warning  to  turn  back 
from  this  accursed  business.  I  could  kill  the  old 
captain  in  a  hand-to-hand  affair,  but  to  steal  on  him 
like  a  thief  and  murder  him  in  bed  or  at  the  door  with 
wife  and  children  round — I  detest  it.  However,  I'm 
in  for  it,  now — only  as  guide,  though  ;  their  blood  is  not 
on  my  head  or  hands  either,"  as  he  held  them  up,  scan- 
ning them  by  the  dim  light,  and  then  dismounted. 

He  had  little  more  than  touched  the  ground,  when  a 
stern  voice  from  behind  him  said  : 

"  Surrender,  you  are  my  prisoner  !  IMove  a  hand,  and 
you  die." 

"  My  God,  is  that  you,  Hal  ?  " — "  Yes,  Bob,  I  am  here." 

Bob  looked  over  his  shoulder  to  see  a  heavy  dragoon 
revolver  in  the  hands  of  his  worst  enemy,  cocked  and 
pointed  directly  at  him. 

"  Hal,  what  do  you  want  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  want  the  letter  you  have,  and  d d  quick,  for  it 

grows  late." 

"  That  letter  ?  "  asked  Bob,  with  a  start.  "  What  do 
you  mean  ?     I  have  no  letter." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  I37 

"  Yes,  you  have,  Bob,  and  you  are  now  trifling  with 
time  when  death  hangs  trembling  in  the  balance  at  your 
threshold.  Give  me  that  letter  without  turning  around, 
or  I'll  put  a  ball  through  you  on  the  spot.  Come  now, 
this  minute,"  and  Hal's  voice  fairly  vibrated  with  deep 
desperation.  Bob  saw  that  the  moment  had  come  when 
a  decisive  blow  must  be  struck  ;  and  he  said  with  a  feeble 
effort  to  laugh  : 

"  Well,  Hal,  you  may  have  the  damn  thing.  I  see  our 
secret  is  given  away.  Only  spare  my  life,  and  I'll  tell 
you  all." 

Then  raising  his  hand  as  if  to  produce  the  letter,  he 
grasped  his  revolver,  and  with  a  spring  like  a  cat,  he 
leaped  to  the  right  and  turned  about-face,  drawing  his 
revolver  as  he  did  so. 

Two  loud  reports,  so  near  together  as  almost  seemed 
one,  broke  the  dusky  stillness,  while  the  owl  flapped  his 
wings  and  flew  hooting  and  screaming  away. 

The  aim  of  Bob  had  been  wild,  and  the  ball  from  his 
revolver  merely  grazed  the  coat  of  Hal,  who,  on  the  alert 
for  his  man,  had  sent  a  bullet  through  his  heart,  and  Bob 
f  jII  forward,  a  lifeless  corpse. 

Hastily  possessing  himself  of  the  coveted  letter,  Hal 
dragged  the  body  into  the  thick  woods,  leading  his  horse 
after  him,  as  he  kicked  the  dust  and  sand  over  the  fresh 
blood. 

Hal  soon  returned  and  sat  upon  his  horse,  waiting 
events.  He  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  by  the  dim  light 
of  the  rapidly  expiring  day,  six  men  were  soon  descried 
riding  down  the  opposite  bank.  As  soon  as  they  were 
across,  Hal  rode  up  to  them  and  said  : 

"  Were  \  ou  expecting  to  meet  a  guide  here  ? " 

"  Well,  yes,  we  were  expecting  a  messenger  from  some 
friend  in  Kansas,"  replied  the  leader.  "  Did  you  bring  a 
letter?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  here  is  a  letter  from  Henry " 

"  Never  mind  who  it's  from,  partner,  give  me  the  letter." 

After  reading  it,  by  the  dim  light,  he  turned  to  his 
companions  and  said  : 

"  It's  all  right,  boys,  and  this  is  Bob,  our  guide." 

Noiselessly  the  men  took  up  their  march  of  death  ;  and 
on  the  way,  Hal  rode  up  to  the  leader,  and  said  : 

"Captain,  I  am  instructed  to  say  'Allow  no  parleying. 


138  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

Least  said,  soonest  mended.  Short,  sharp  work,  and  re- 
turn ' — you  understand  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  do,  young  man,"  responded  the  captain, 
laconically. 

Shortly  after  twelve  o'clock  that  night,  the  men  sur- 
rounded the  house  of .     One,  a  tall,  powerful  man, 

knocked  at  the  door,  and  then  withdrew  a  few  feet.  Soon 
the  door  was  opened  by  a  man,  holding  in  his  hand  a 
lighted  candle,  which  he  raised  so  as  to  shade  his  eyes, 
and  asked  : 

"  Who  is  there  ?  " 

A  low,  soft  whistle  from  Hal  was  the  signal  for  a  vol- 
ley that  riddled  the  victim,  extinguishing  the  light  and 
spark  of  life  at  one  blow. 

Hastily  remounting,  the  men  rode  silently  to  the  house 
of  • — — — ,  not  far  away,  where  the  knock  was  repeated 
and  answered  as  before.  Hal's  signal  whistle  sounded 
ere  the  man  could  ask  if  friend  or  foe  had  called. 

In  quick  succession  three  more  charges  of  buckshot 
were  sent  hurtling  through  the  darkness,  scoring  one 
more  victim,  fallen  in  his  own  trap. 

Another  and  another  followed,  until  the  plotters,  with 
Bob,  their  tool,  slept  the  long  sleep  that  knows  no  waking; 
the  last  two  victims  being  literally  hacked  to  pieces  with 
knives,  instead  of  being  sliot  like  their  neighbors. 

Thus  was  buried  in  the  graves  of  the  dead  men,  and 
the  bosoms  of  two  of  the  living,  the  secret  of  the  "  Potawa- 
tomie  Massacre." 

The  assassins  rode  at  great  speed  back  to  Missouri, 
and  only  learned  two  days  later  how  they  had  murdered 
their  friends  at  the  instance  of  their  enemies. 

The  body  of  Bob,  the  messenger,  though  found,  was 
never  recognized,  and  his  horse  and  pistol  enlisted  in  the 
Free  State  cause. 

The  enemies  of  Captain  Brown  boldly  asserted  tiiat  he 
was  the  perpetrator  of  tlie  outrage,  to  which  he  deigned 
no  response.  His  friends  could  make,  therefore,  no  de- 
nial. But  there  was  a  fearful  warning  in  this  ghostly 
spectacle  that  seemed  to  say: 

''  //  is  a  two-edged  sivord  you  men  of  the  South  liavc  been 
u  si  lis:.     Beware!''^ 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

When  the  convention  of  the  people  of  Kansas  was 
called  to  meet  at  Topeka  on  the  same  day  that  the  Free 
State  Legislature  was  to  convene,  Clayton,  with  a  large 
number  of  his  neighbors,  was  present.  Some  went  armed 
with  rifles,  revolvers  and  swords;  others  with  their  simple 
faith  in  the  protecting  care  of  the  United  States  govern- 
ment. 

Rumor  was  current  that  Colonel  Sumner,  of  the  United 
States  army,  had  said  that  the  soldiers  would  disperse  the 
Legislature  at  all  hazards,  in  accordance  with  acting-Gov- 
ernor Woodson's  proclamation.  Some  advised  resistance 
to  the  usurpation,  even  unto  death  ;  and  insisted  that  if 
resistance  were  shown,  the  soldiers  would  not  fire,  or 
Sumner  go  beyond  the  show  of  executing  such  a  vile 
scheme. 

So  when  the  people  met  in  Topeka  on  that  memorable 
day,  each  man  looked  into  his  neighbor's  face  and  sought 
to  measure  by  some  intuitive  power,  the  length  and 
breadth  of  his  purpose. 

Captain  Brown  was  there,  boys  and  neighbors,  prepared 
as  before  at  Lawrence,  for  resistance,  and  determined  to 
act  in  concert  with  those  to  whom  leadership  had  been 
accorded  ;  but  he  said  to  Clayton  : 

"  I  came  armed,  ready  for  the  worst  if  it  should  come." 

When  the  convention  was  quietly  convened  and  pro- 
ceeded to  business,  the  rattle  and  clanking  of  sabers  and 
spurs  broke  in  upon  the  scene,  and  Colonel  Sumner  strode 
to  the  desk  of  the  secretary,  accompanied  by  an  officer  of 
his  staff  and  a  deputy  United  States  marshal,  and  read, 
with  some  hesitation  and  embarrassment,  the  acting- 
governor's  proclamation  commanding  the  Legislature  to 
disperse,  and  his  own  order  to  enforce  this  instrument, 
which  "  it  was  his  painful   and  imperative  duty  to  obey." 

When  profound  silence  was  his  only  answer  he  became 
embarrassed,  and  asked  if  obedience  or  resistance  were 
contemplated. 


140  THE    STORMY   PETREL. 

Colonel  Sumner  was  soon  informed  of  his  mistake. 
This  was  not  the  Legislature,  but  a  convention  of  the  peo- 
ple of  Kansas,  and  he  and  his  officers  at  once  withdrew. 

As  soon  as  he  had  left  the  hall,  Captain  Brown,  and  a 
few  of  his  followers,  were  busy  in  the  crowd,  counseling 
the  members  of  the  Legislature  to  make  at  least  a  show  of 
resistance.  Some  few  sympathized  with  this  view,  but  the 
majority  hesitated,  and  timidly  urged  submission  rather 
than  violence  in  resisting  law. 

Captain  Brown  and  his  party  were  to  display  in  the 
button-hole  of  the  coat  a  red  string,  indicating  their  pur- 
pose to  resist,  even  to  the  shedding  of  blood. 

When  the  hour  had  arrived  for  the  meeting  of  the  Legis- 
lature, Captain  Brown,  Frank  Clayton,  and  one  or  two 
others,  were  mingling  with  the  crowd,  counting  and  con- 
sulting those  who  displayed  the  red  badge  of  resistance  to 
oppression. 

"  How  are  we  to  know  what  to  do .''  Who  is  to  deter- 
mine our  strength  ?  "  said  one  of  the  timid. 

"  I  will,"  said  Captain  Brown,  "  if  you  will  give  me  two 
hundred  strings  with  men  attached  to  them.  Colonel 
Sumner  will  be  informed  by  the  Free  State  Legislature, 
that  we  propose  to  remain  in  quiet  possession  of  these 
halls,  and  peaceably  transact  the  business  that  brought 
us  here,  as  the  representatives  of  the  people,  until  we  are 
outnumbered,  overpowered,  and  destroyed  by  any  hostile 
force  that  may  be  brought  against  us.  If  we  timidly  sub- 
mit, all  is  lost ;  if  we  heroically  resist,  we  secure  Kansas 
to  freemen  and  freedom.'' 

A  careful  count  showed  less  than  half  the  number  re- 
quired for  successful  resistance,  and,  added  to  this,  was 
the  influence  of  the  members  of  the  Legislature,  counsel- 
ing submission  rather  than  bloodshed. 

In  answer,  Captain  Brown  said  : 

"  Yes.  Submit ;  and  if  our  fathers  had  been  made  of 
such  pliant  stuff,  we  would  to-day  be  paying  England  duty 
on  tea,  and  taxes  to  support  a  foreign  army  in  our  midst." 

Slowly  wending  their  way  out  of  the  humiliating  scene, 
John  Brown  and  his  followers  dispersed  to  their  several 
homes. 

The  days  following  this  were  very  dark  to  the  lovers  of 
freedom.  Many  in  discouragement,  gave  up  the  conflict 
and  returned  to  the  East ;  while  others  resolutely  prepared 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  I41 

to  fight  it  out ;  and  new  temporary  structures  rose  out  of 
the  ashes  of  the  old,  at  Lawrence  and  elsewhere,  to  meet 
the  rigors  of  the  coming  winter. 

On  the  14th  of  August,  a  detachment  of  Free  State 
men,  took  up  the  line  of  march  from  Lawrence  for  Fort 
Saunders,  where  Colonel  Gordon  was  intrenched  with  his 
adherents  and  a  large  force  of  Missourians. 

Reinforcements  from  Topeka  met  them  by  the  way  and 
the  whole  command  moved  on  under  General  Lane,  and 
surrounded  the  fort  on  all  sides  except  where  a  deep  and 
almost  impassable  ravine  protected  the  flank.  Then  at  a 
signal  for  attack  Captain  Brown  gave  the  order  "forward," 
and  as  soon  as  within  firing  distance  with  Sharpe's  rifles, 
the  command  went  ringing  along  the  line,  "  Lie  down," 
and  the  line  of  battle  disappeared  into  the  prairie  grass, 
while  with  body  concealed,  the  soldier  could  take  good 
aim  with  his  rifle. 

Clayton,  thinking  the  order  to  lie  down  also  the  signal 
for  battle,  took  deliberate  aim  and  sent  a  ball  crashing 
through  the  door  of  the  log  fort  now  only  about  three 
hundred  yards  distant. 

The  premature  shot  caused  some  merriment  in  the  line, 
and  some  other  desultory  firing  ensued  without  any  re- 
sponse from  the  fort. 

Soon  it  was  discovered  that  the  enemy  had  evacuated 
the  fort  and  retreated  down  a  deep  rugg^-d  ravine  in  the 
angle  of  which  the  fort  was  situated,  well  prutecied  on  two 
sides. 

Then  a  charge  was  ordered  and  a  running  fire  kept  up 
between  the  advance  of  one  force  and  the  rearguard  of  the 
retreating  one,  over  rough  ground,  and  under  cover  of 
rocky  bluffs,  brush  and  thick  trees.  This  lasted  until 
late  in  the  day  when  a  halt  was  called  ;  and  at  this  point, 
a  messenger  from  Captain  Walker  stated  that  a  very  large 
force  of  men  under  Colonel  Titus,  who  was  strongly  for- 
tified near  Lecomi:)ton,  had  been  down  near  Lawrence  on 
a  raid  among  the  Free  State  settlers  on  the  night  previous. 

At  a  council  of  war  it  was  decided  to  make  a  rapid  march 
that  night  and  attack  Fort  Titus  early  on  the  following 
day. 

Midnight  found  the  Free  State  forces  bivouacked  on  the 
road  from  Lawrence  toLecompton  and  within  easy  strik- 
ing distance  of  Fort  Titus.     During  the  night,  the  pickets 


142  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

of  the  two  forces  fired  upon  each  other,  and  the  border 
ruffians  chased  the  others  into  their  camp,  being  much  the 
stronger;  and  there  received  a  volley  from  the  men  who 
had  been  sleeping  under  arms  in  true  soldier  style. 

Several  horses  of  the  enemy  were  killed,  and  some 
prisoners  were  taken.  The  remainder  retreated  to  Fort 
Titus  and  gave  the  alarm,  so  that,  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, the  i6th  of  August,  when  the  assault  was  made,  the 
enemy  were  found  in  full  force  and  prepared  for  extraordi- 
nary defence.  But  when  Captain  Bickerton  brought  his 
twelve-pound  field-piece  into  position,  it  spoke  in  thunder 
tones  to  these  defiant  men  with  ball  made  of  type  from 
the  Free  State  presses  of  Lawrence. 

"  Thunder  on,  thou  Free  State  Press,  Herald  of  Free- 
dom, as  thou  truly  art !  "  exclaimed  Clayton.  "  Remove 
from  the  face  of  the  earth  the  stronghold  of  slavery  with 
the  double-leaded  editorials  !  "  adding  as  the  cannon 
boomed  again,  "There  is  an  extra  issued  for  your  special 
benefit.  Colonel  Titus!" 

Boom  !  went  Captain  Bickerton's  fourth  issue. 

Then  he  turned  to  Clayton,  who  was  using  the  Sharpe's 
rifle  with  telling  effect,  and  nodded  with  a  significant  wink 
as  he  stooped  and  sighted  the  piece  for  the  "  fifth  issue." 

"A  little  further  to  the  right,  Captain,"  said  Clayton. 
"  Hit  him  between  the  two  centre-ports." 

The  captain  made  no  response,  but  carefully  adjusted 
his  piece,  and  commanded  "fire."  Instantly  the  very  crest 
of  the  hill  was  obscured  by  a  volume  of  smoke. 

"  A  bull's-eye,  by  the  Eternal  \"  shouted  Clayton. 

A  breach  in  the  fort  was  made,  which  Clayton  and  his 
comrades  endeavored  to  fill  with  rifle-balls.'  Titus  and 
several  of  his  men  were  wounded  with  splinters  from  the 
cannon-shots  or  the  Sharpe's  rifle-balls  that  flew  thick  and 
fast  against  his  crumbling  stronghold. 

The  smoke  and  din  of  battle,  the  dust  of  rapidly  mov- 
ing cavalry  and  infantry,  the  crash  of  cannon-shot,  the 
bray  of  the  trumpet,  the  neigh  of  horses,  and  the  ringing 
notes  of  command, — "Right  wheel!"  "Forward!" 
"  Steady  !  "  "  Charge  !  "  with  the  echo  and  re-echo  of  the 
strife  combined  to  make  the  little  valley  around  Fort  Titus 
a  scene  of  fearful  contrast  to  the  beauty  of  its  surround- 
ings of  but  a  few  hours  before. 

Soon  there  flattered  out  of  one  of  the  port-holes  a  white 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  1 43 

flag,  a  shirt  torn  from  the  bleeduig  body  of  Colonel  Titus 
and  suspended  from  a  bayonet  amid  the  shouts  of  the  sol- 
diery.    This  was  the  origin  of  "  waving  the  bloody  shirt." 

Just  then  a  messenger  arrived  saying  that  the  United 
States  troops  were  coming  out  from  Lecompton  to  pre- 
vent further  bloodshed.  In  great  haste,  the  prisoners 
were  secured,  and  the  Free  State  men  returned  to  Law- 
rence in  triumph. 

The  17th  of  August  was  a  proud  day  for  that  little  city 
when  messengers  came  from  Lecompton  asking  for  a  coun- 
cil and  an  exchange  of  prisoners.  John  Brown,  although 
participating  in  that  council,  allowed  no  word  of  triumph 
to  escape  him  at  the  humiliation  of  the  enemy,  nor  even 
at  the  liberation  of  the  Free  State  prisoners  at  Lecompton. 
All  these  he  accepted  with  a  profound  silence. 

Men  went  back  to  their  homes  hoping  the  battle  had 
been  fought  and  Kansas  would  be  left  unmolested.  John 
Brown  shared  this  hope  of  a  regenerated  territory,  but 
returned  to  Ossawatomie  to  "watch  as  well  as  pray." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

The  watching  and  praying  were  unavailing,  for  not 
many  weeks  later  Ossawatomie  was  attacked  by  a  band 
of  ruffians,  and  although  stoutly  defended  by  Brown  with 
a  little  band  of  forty  men,  of  whom  three  were  his  own 
sons,  was  burned  to  the  ground,  and  his  son  Frederick 
killed  and  brutally  mutilated. 

Governor  Geary  who  had  recently  been  appointed,  was  ac- 
tive in  trying  to  prevent  further  collisions  between  the  con- 
tending factions,  and  attended  by  United  States  troops, 
he  was  visiting,  urging  and  commanding  both  parties  to  dis- 
band and  return  to  their  several  homes  and  occupations. 

Under  pretence  of  obedience  to  the  governor's  orders 
several  bands  of  the  border  ruffians  marched  away  and 
attacked  unsuspecting  settlers,  killing  and  burning  as  they 
went. 

Some  of  these  men  entrenched  themselves  at  Hickory 
Point,  from  which  place  they  made  predatory  attacks 
upon  the  surrounding  country,  and  defied  the  governor's 
orders. 

Two  detachments  of  Free  State  men,  mostly  of  the 
Stubb's  company  and  Cabbott  Guard  of  Lawrence,  under 
Major  Harvey,  on 'the  the  13th  of  September,  marched 
from  Lawrence  to  the  fort  and  took  the  whole  force  pris- 
oners after  two  hours,  hard  fighting.  On  his  march  back 
to  Lawrence,  Harvey  was  surprised  by  Captain  Cook's 
command  of  United  States  cavalry,  and  all  were  made  pris- 
oners. Captain  Cook  liberated  the  border  ruffian  prisoners 
held  by  Harvey  and  retained  the  Free  State  men  in  cus- 
tody and  turned  them  over  to  Colonel  Titus,  who  now 
was  in  command  of  the  militia  at  Lecompton. 

Early  on  Sunday  morning,  the  14th  of  September,  Cap- 
tain Brown  and  six  men  rode  into  Lawrence  and  startled 
the  citizens  by  informing  them  that  a  large  force  of  Mis- 
sourians  were  marching  on  that  town  with  the  avowed 
purpose  of'  destroying  it,  and  that  every  available  man 
ought  at  once  be  armed  to  meet  and  resist  them. 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  145 

Great  was  the  commotion  at  the  news  among  old  and 
young,  women  and  children.  Captain  Brown  was  asked 
to  take,  and  accepted,  command  of  the  forces.  Clayton 
with  ten  men  was  placed  in  the  rocky  walls  or  breast- 
works crowning  the  heights  of  Mount  Oread,  with  strict 
orders  to  surrender  only  with  his  own  life  and  the  lives  of 
his  men  ;  others  were  placed  at  different  points  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town  in  squads  of  ten.  Permission  was 
given  Clayton  to  take  such  of  the  men  as  had  Sharpe's 
rifles  and  join  the  force  on  the  plain  south  of  the  town, 
but  not  to  be  drawn  too  far  from  the  fort. 

Thus  stood  the  beleaguered  little  town  when  the  sun 
began  its  western  descent  to  the  horizon.  Then  a  faint 
line  of  haze  was  discovered,  forming  a  gray  streak  on  the 
blue  sky  beyond  Franklin  in  the  direction  of  the  Missouri 
border,  from  whence  the  attack  was  expected. 

Captain  Brown  rode  rapidly  along  his  line  of  battle  in 
the  grass  (though  his  whole  force  amounted  to  only  a  line 
of  pickets)  encouraged  each  man  to  stand  firm  and  only  to 
fall  back  to  the  town  as  a  last  resort. 

Approaching  Clayton  he  said  : 

"  From  the  length  of  that  gray  streak  of  dust,  it  looks 
as  though  they  were  coming  in  force.  You  must  not  be  led 
too  far  from  your  support  there,  for  that  breast-work  may 
become  a  very  important  point." 

Captain  Sam  Walker,  Murat-like,  with  all  the  mounted 
men,  had  dashed  out  to  meet  the  enemy's  advance 
and  were  now  engaged  at  long  range  near  Franklin,  and 
the  ringing  reports  of  the  Sharpe's  rifles  could  be  distinctly 
heard  in  the  distance,  answered  occasionally  by  the 
louder  and  fuller  response  of  the  shot-gun  or  musket  with 
which  the  border  ruffians  were  armed. 

Soon,  the  advance  guard  of  the  enemy  consisting  of 
five  hundred  cavalry,  came  down  the  slopes  in  line  of  bat- 
tle with  their  skirmishers  thrown  well  in  front,  driving 
Captain  Walker's  little  band  before  them  and  the  ominous 
and  increasing  nearness  of  these  shots  horrified  the 
women  and  children  in  the  seemingly  doomed  little 
town. 

A  volley  from  a  cornfield  where  Captain  Brown  had 
posted  some  of  his  men,  threw  the  enemy  into  great  confu- 
sion, dismounting  and  wounding  several  of  thern.  Thej' 
had  evidently  not  calculated  well  the  range  of  the  Sharpe's 


146  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

rifles,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  the  bullets  came,  gave 
evidence  of  a  much  larger  force  than  really  existed. 

The  enemy's  cavalry,  though  in  great  confusion,  kept 
advancing.  The  firing  all  along  the  line  was  now  gen- 
eral ;  riderless  horses  were  running  wildly  about,  throwing 
everything  in  disorder.  It  soon  became  evident  to  the 
enemy  thai  these  horsemen  could  never  break  through  that 
line  of  fire  and  smoke  impelling  its  swift  and  deadly  mes- 
sengers. Casting  their  glances  backward  for  the  expected 
reinforcements  that  came  not,  the  whole  force  in  a  helter- 
skelter  retreat  got  over  the  brow  of  the  hill  and  back  to 
Franklin. 

So,  for  some  unexplained  reason,  this  handful  of  brave 
men  kept  twenty-seven  hundred  Missourians  quite  at  bay 
until  midnight ;  when  the  United  States  troops  from 
Lecompton  reached  Mount  Oread,  and  were  welcomed  by 
Clayton  and  his  men  who  held  the  fort. 

These  troops  had  been  fifteen  hours  marching  twelve 
miles,  under  the  most  urgent  request  that  could  be  framed 
by  unprotected  citizens  I  Was  this  delay  for  the  benefit 
of  the  border  ruffians  or  the  people  of  Lawrence?  inquir- 
ing minds  will  ask. 

Captain  Brown  rode  up  and  turned  the  command  of  the 
defence  of  Lawrence  over  to  the  United  States  officer  in 
charge. 

"Where  is  the  enemy  we  are  brought  here  to  check  on 
his  road  to  carnage  ? "  asked  the  officer,  sneeringly. 

"  Sir,"  said  Captain  Brown,  "  if  you  look  over  there 
(pointing  to  the  hundreds  of  camp-fires  plainly  visible 
from  where  they  stood,)  you  will  find  answer  to  your  ques- 
tion. And  now  will  you  be  kind  enough  to  detail  a  guard 
and  relieve  the  citizens  who  have  been  on  duty  since  early 
morning  ?  " 

Captain  Brown  then  pointed  out  the  strong  places  he 
had  guarded,  and  the  men  on  duty  were  relieved. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Claude  Duvall  was  compelled  to  go  to  the  East  and 
South  upon  important  private  business  of  his  own  ;  but 
Frank's  frequent  letters  kept  him  fully  informed  of  the 
flow  of  events  in  Kansas;  and  Claude  felt  almost  like  a 
deserter  at  leaving  his  friend  alone  in  such  troublous  times 
— the  whole  Territory  in  a  condition  of  tumult  and  alarm 
— collisions,  and  even  victories,  seeming  to  accomplish 
little.  Winter  was  approaching,  and  thousands  of  brave 
fellows  had  not  resources  even  to  fight  its  rigors,  and 
hence  must  bear  the  present  ills  until  Spring  had  re- 
cruited their  forces,  and  then  renew  the  conflict. 

John  Brown's  domestic  sorrows,  added  to  the  other 
trouble,  had  broken  him  sadly.  His  home  and  his  family 
were  wrecked.  Fire,  sword  and  the  plowshare  of  grief 
had  left  little  of  a  once  happy  circle.  All  the  energy  of  his 
mind  now  seemed  turned  upon  one  object,  upon  which  he 
pondered  night  and  day — that  was,  aiding  slaves  to 
escape  into  freedom.  It  was  a  perilous  undertaking  to 
get  off  one  of  these  parties  of  fugitives  ;  but  he  engaged 
in  it  with  a  kind  of  reckless  energy. 

Just  at  this  time  a  negro  came  to  him,  introducing  him- 
self as  Jim. 

"  You  disremember  me.  Mars  Captain,"  said  the  fellow 
with  a  curious  twinkle,  "  don't  yer  reklect  Jim  what  come 
to  tole  you  bout  de  men  what  wuz  comin'  to  kill  yer  dat 
night  ? '"' 

"  Why,  Jim  !  "  exclaimed  the  captain,  much  moved  and 
clasping  his  hand. 

"  Yes,  sah  ;  it  is  me  for  sartain.  I  dun  heard  about  you 
over  in  Missouri,  an  I  sez  '  I  know  Mars  Brown  ain't  gwin- 
ter  let  dem  take  me  down  to  Texas.'  We  all  ob  us, 
mo'n  a  dozen,  belongs  ter  de  young  missus,  an'  she's  berry 
sick  an'  gwinter  die  ;  an'  if  she  do,  she  say  we're  all  a 
gwinter  be  free.  Now,  de  young  mars,  he  gwinter  sen'  us 
off  ter  Texas  'fo  she  die,  so  dat  nobody  can  fin'  us  to  gib 
us  freedom.  Nigh  as  I  can  I'arn,  deys  gwinter  start  us  off 
sometime  nex'  week  an'  w'at  we's  gwinter  do  mus  be  did 


148  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

mighty  quick,  Cap'n.  Well,  Mars  Cap'n,  I  ses  to  my  ole 
'oman,  I  sez  :  'Don  cry,  honey;  Mars  Brown  h'ell  come 
and  car  us  off  to  Kansas — suah — case  he  sed  as  how  he 
would  help  dis  yer  nigger  ef  ebber  he  need  it ;  and  we  do 
need  it  now  mighty  bad,  an'  no  mistake. '  " 

The  next  day  Frank  received  a  message  asking  him  to 
come  at  once  to  Captain  Brown's  rooms. 

"Clayton,"  said  he  impressively,  "I  have  heard  a  voice 
from  Heaven.  When  I  was  r-evolving  plans  for  Jim's  res- 
cue the  whole  thing  opened  up  to  me  as  clear  as  noon- 
day." And  fixing  his  eyes  on  Frank  as  if  he  expected  to 
electrify  him  with  his  words  :  "  We  will  open  a  highway 
right  through  the  State  of  Missouri ;  have  organized  bands 
to  protect  it  all  along  the  way;  and  the  slaves  will  rusli 
through  it  in  an  an  irresistible  torrent  toward  freedom. 
Nothing  can  withstand  them  !  " 

"  But,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Frank,  amazed,  "  this  is 
madness.     I  implore  you  to  reflect  that '' 

"  Reflect .''  T  have  reflected.  Do  the  waters  pause 
when  a  breach  is  made  in  the  dam  ?  I  tell  you  we  can 
empty  the  South  of  suffering  humanity  by  opening  up 
these  points  of  egress — for  there  must  be  others.  I  have 
thought  of  Harper's  Ferry  ;  that  is  one  point  that  must  be 
looked  after.  In  a  half-hour  we  could  possess  ourselves 
of  the  United  States*  Arsenal  there — and  then  " — and 
there  was  a  gleam  of  strange  triumph  in  his  eye — "noth- 
ing on  earth  could  stay  tliat  flood  which  would  pour 
through  to  Canada." 

"  My  God  !  You  are  not  serious  .'' "  said  Frank,  in  agita- 
tion. 

John  Brown  looked  at  Clayton  in  silence  for  a 
moment,  then  said  :  "  Clayton,  I  am  disappointed  in  you. 
I  thought  JY^//,  at  least,  I  might  depend  upon;  but  I  see  I 
must  lean  upon  no  human  arm.  God  and  justice  are  all  I 
shall  have  to  help  me.  But  it  will  be  done,  sure  as  the 
Red  Sea  opened  for  the  Israelites." 

"  A  Red  Sea,  yes,"  said  Frank,  gloomily  ;  "  but  a  sea 
red  with  blood  ! — and  now " 

"  Pardon  me,  my  dear  friend,"  he  added  more  gently, 
"  but  I  see  danger  in  all  this — danger  to  you  and  to  the 
people  you  would  serve.  My  reason  revolts,  I  must  can- 
didly tell  you,  revolts  at  the  whole  plan  as  illegal  and  im- 
practicable." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  1 49 

"  Vou  have  no  scruples  against  aiding  one  fugitive  lo 
liberty,  which  is  equally  illegal ;  yet  you  hesitate  to  send 
a  thousand  on  the  high  road.  I  do  not  understand  your 
reasoning,"  said  the  old  man  with  bitterness.  "  In  other 
words,  you  think  it  right  to  retail  freedom,  while  it 
'  revolts  your  reason  '  to  give  it  broadly  to  the  whole 
race." 

Frank  was  overwhelmed  when  he  found  how  impossible 
it  was  to  avert  the  impassioned  old  man  from  this  plan. 
He  paced  the  floor  in  silence  a  few  times,  and  then  said 
very  earnestly  : 

"  Abandon  this,  I  iniolnre  you — or  at  least,  wait.  W'ait, 
be  patient,  and  lime  will  avenge  the  wrongs  we  have  all 
suffered.  And  though  I  confess  yours  have  been  most 
grievous  and  hard,  and  Jim's  full  of  injustice  and  cruelty, 
yet  would  I  bid  you  wait  until  action  shall  mem/,  not  mar 
the  situation." 

John  Brown  arose,  and  said  impressively  : 

"  Let  me  paint  a  picture  for  your  contemplation,  Clayton, 
and  then  you  may  answer  me.  On  the  banks  of  a  small 
river  was  an  humble  cottage,  under  the  roof  of  which  lived 
an  aged  couple  and  their  four  sons.  Contentment,  peace 
and  happiness  were  written  on  all  parts  of  this  quiet  pic- 
ture, animate  and  inanimate. 

"Lo!  a  change  !  Look  again  !  In  the  short  space  of 
two  summers  the  hand  of  the  destroyer,  Slavery,  has  been 
at  work.  There  under  the  scorched  boughs  of  a  spread- 
ing oak  that  formed  almost  a  part  of  the  cottage  itself,  lies 
the  swollen,  distorted  and  mutilated  body  of  one  son, 
and  kneeling  near  by  is  the  wreck  of  another.  Hovering 
about  this  group  is  a  woman  whose  fifty  recurring  autumns 
have  sprinkled  their  frosts  upon  her  dishevelled  hair,  and 
down  her  furrowed  cheeks  flow  a  mother's  tears;  while 
with  raised  hands  she  cries  in  agony:  'Can  such  things 
be,  with  a  God  still  in  Israel  ! '  " 

Then  approaching  his  companion  almost  fiercel}'.  Cap- 
tain Brown  added:  "Now,  sir,  in  the  presence  of  this 
picture  can  you  ask  the  father  and  husband  to  be  patient  i^ 
'Be  patient  ! '  Yes,  I'll  be  patient  and  tarry  with  the  thun- 
der-bolts of  an  avenging  God  !  "  and  he  walked  on,  sayihi; 
to  himself:  "Yes,  I'll  wait  for  the  slow  process  of  Ages. 
perhaps,  when  these  black  men  shall  be  aroused  aiiJ 
made  to  stand  upright  before  God." 


150  THE   STORMY   PETREL, 

Then,  stopping  suddenly  before  Clayton,  who  sat 
watching  this  storm  of  human  woe,  he  continued  : 

"No,  it's  false  and  impossible.  I'll  not  be  patient  nor 
passive.  I  will  rush  forth  and  arouse  these  men  from  their 
slumber  of  centuries  and  bid  them  in  the  name  of  God, 
our  common  Father,  to  claim  their  heritage  of  freedom  ! 
Yes  ;  though  I  had  a  thousand  lives  instead  of  one  to 
answer  for  this  act !  " 

"Listen!"  he  added,  with  a  solemn  gesture.  "Only 
last  night  I  was  pondering  on  these  things,  weighing  all 
prudent  objections,  when  suddenly  the  room  became 
illumined  by  a  soft  light,  and,  as  from  a  cloud,  a  human 
form  dimly  appeared,  until  finally  it  stood  as  in  life,  and 
I  started  forward  to  embrace  my  son  ;  but,  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand,  he  bade  me  desist.  His  eyes  were  full  of 
tender  light  and  sympathy;  yet  he  spake  not.  Then  I 
said:  'In  the  name  of  God,  my  son,  what  can  I — what 
must  I  do  in  this  great  duty  that  lies  before  me  ? '  As 
if  I  had  anticipated  his  wish,  he  smiled,  saying  :  '  Father, 
I  come  in  the  name  and  in  behalf  of  the  wronged — look 
there  ! '  and  he  pointed  to  the  opposite  wall ;  and  there, 
written  in  blood-red  letters,  I  saw  '  Fear  not  to  do  thy 
appointed  work.'  " 

John  Brown  seated  himself  and  remained  bowed  for 
some  moments.     Lifting  his  head  finally,  he  said  : 

"  Can  I — ought  I  to  wait  ?  " 

Clayton  arose  and  clasped  the  outstretched  hands,  as 
he  said,  with  much  feeling: 

"  Captain,  compose  yourself.  I  think  you  did  but 
dream  ;  and  to  act  is  to  rush  madly " 

"  Stay,  stay,  Clayton  ! ''  he  interposed,  "  I  am  the 
prophet,  the  priest  and  the  sacrifice.  If  I  dreamed  then, 
so  do  I  dream  now ;  your  task  is  silence — assent,  or  aid, 
but  no  opposition.  As  well  try  to  stay  the  bolt  after  the 
electric  flash.  No,  no;  the  die  is  cast — I  go  to  answer 
the  call  of  duty  and  my  God  !  " 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

"Lawrence,  Oct.  loth,  1858. 

"My  Dear  Duvall  : 

"  I  told  you  in  my  last  brief  letter  of  my  painful 
interview  with  our  old  friend,  Capt.  Brown  ;  but  I  did 
not  tell  you  the  distress  it  cost  me  even  for  a  moment 
to  differ  from  and  almost  rebuke  him.  And  yet,  I  can- 
not follow  him  in  this  mad  enterprise  upon  which  he  is 
fully  bent.  I  am  dismayed  when  I  think  to  what  it  may 
lead.  I  sometimes  think  long  brooding  over  wrong  has 
partly  dethroned  reason.  Had  he  ten  lives,  he  would 
gladly  lay  ihem  down  for  the  end  he  wishes  to  accomplish. 
But  he  will  7iot  accomplish  it,  and  so  the  sacrifice  will  be 
vain  ;  that  my  reason  assures  me.  But  what  use  to  tell 
him  this  ?  Does  the  wind  turn  Mt.  Oread,  as  she  sits 
there  facing  the  sun  ? 

"  He  is  not  of  our  world.  Its  code  of  laws,  its  prejudices 
and  conventions  are  nothing  to  him,  because  he  recog- 
nizes only  a  Divine  Code  and  defies  human  courts  and 
penalties.  So — I  can  only  leave  him  to  work  out  his  own 
problem  alone.  I  have  consented,  however,  under  certain 
conditions,  to  lend  my  aid  in  his  attempt  to  gather  the  band 
of  slaves  in  Missouri.  He  promises  the  thing  shall  be 
accomplished  without  bloodshed  ?  and,  of  course,  I  antici- 
pate that  Sam  will  by  this  means  escape  from  his  captors 
?iv\d pseudo  owner. 

"  This  reminds  me  to  tell  you  of  an  unexpected  visitor 
from  my  old  home,  in  none  other  than  Dick,  the  husband 
of  the  poor  girl  who  was,  with  her  child,  so  mysteriously 
spirited  away  from  that  misguided  boy,  Harry  Barnes. 
God  only  knows  what  became  of  the  poor  creature ; 
but  it  seems  that  Mr.  Fletcher  has  given  him  his 
freedom,  that  he  may  go  in  search  of  her.  As  that 
gentleman  never  did  a  good  act  in  his  life,  (that  I  am 
aware  of)  I  naturally  see  my  cousin  Kate's  hand  in  this. 
She  is  the  dearest  and  the  best  of  women — and — well,  if 


152  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

she  is  satisfied  with  her  fate,  I  suppose  I  should  be  !  And 
she  seemed  very  fond  of  that  underserving  fellow, 
although  I  thought  in  my  last  visit  home,  some  two  years 
ago,  I  discovered  signs  of  disenchantment.  At  all 
events,  she  had  lost  her  vivacity  and  there  were  lines  of 
pain  in  her  face  which  troubled  me. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  how  I  do  pour  my  heart  out  to  you  ! 
It  has  become  my  habit  to  tell  you  everything.  Oh,  how 
I  miss  your  sympathetic  smile,  your  magnetic  presence 
and  your  musical  halting  English  !  Now,  don't  be  vain,  old 
fellow  ;  but  really,  I  have  found  your  friendship  so  con- 
genial and  so  comforting,  I  want  you  to  know  it. 

"You  have  listened  so  patiently  to  my  troubles  and 
so  bravely  concealed  your  own  !  And,  frankly,  1  have  no 
sorrows  but  those  of  others,  which  I  take  upon  myself. 

"  The  one  sorrow  of  which  I  told  you — the  loss  of  my 
early  love — seems  a  dream  now  !  and  since  my  uncle 
Stanley  is  gone,  there  is  no  one  nearer  than  my  cousin 
Kate.  I  have  an  ample  fortune,  life  and  the  world 
before  me,  I  am  heart  free  ;  what  right  have  I  to  ask  for 
sympathy?  So  to  this  confession  I  will  add  one  more — 
that  I  am, 

"  Ever  most  faithfully  yours, 

"  Frank  Clayton." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Upon  the  banks  of  the  Osage  River,  near  the  Ihie  of 
Vernon  County,  just  as  the  sun  was  sinking  in  the  west, 
a  group  of  men  stood  looking  across  the  small  stream, 
which  ran  swift  and  muddy  from  recent  rain. 

"I  wonder  what  is  the  matter.'"  said  a  tall,  muscular 
man,  in  whom  we  recognize  Kagi,  Capt.  Brown's  trusted 
friend  and  lieutenant.  "The  captain  is  usually  so 
prompt,  and  we  have  only  a  few  hours  now  in  which  to 
do  our  work." 

"Perhaps  some  trouble  in  obtaining  a  wagon,"  sug- 
gested Charles  Partridge  ;  then  he  exclaimed,  "  There !  I 
see  him  coming." 

And  soon  the  tall,  erect  form  of  Capt.  Brown  stood 
upon  the  opposite  shore. 

The  two  men  with  their  companion,  Frank  Clayton, 
bounded  into  their  saddles  and  forded  the  narrow  stream 
which  they  observed  was  rising. 

"We  will  have  hard  work,  Kagi,"  said  Clayton,  "to 
recross  this  creek  five  or  six  hours  from  now ;  and  if  the 
ferry-boat  cannot  be  found  up  at  the  crossing,  we  may 
have  to  swim.  No  telling  what  kind  of  a  following  we 
may  have."     Then,  turning  in  his  saddle,  he  said  : 

"  Partridge,  do  you  know  on  which  side  of  the  river  the 
ferry  is  kept  below  here  }  " 

"  I  am  unable  to  say,  for  it  is  used  now  by  those  dare- 
devil boys  about  here. 

"  I  have  information  that  Livingstone  and  Hart  are 
both  down  at  Skinner's  ranch  ;  and  some  kind  of  deviltry 
is  on  foot,  for  the  trio  never  come  together  unless  mis- 
chief is  brooding.  I  have  made  arrangements  to  have 
the  ferry-boat  on  this  side ;  and  if  those  devils  don't  dis- 
cover it,  we  will  be  all  right,"  said  Kagi,  as  they  ascended 
the  bank  where  Capt.  Brown  stood  looking  at  the  four 
trusted  men  who  were  commg  over  for  a  final  council 
before  action. 

All    of    the  horsemen    dismounted,   and   after    shaking 


154  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

hands  with  their  leader,  stood  about  him,  wailing  for  his 
commands.  It  was  finally  agreed,  after  some  discussion, 
that  the  ferry  should  be  the  rendezvous  instead  of  the 
ford,  in  view  of  the  rapidly  rising  river. 

When  all  arrangements  were  made,  Clayton  and  his 
friends  mounted,  to  recross  the  stream  where  their  field 
of  action  lay,  leaving  the  other  horsemen  watching  them 
until  they  had  ascended  the  opposite  bank. 

After  several  hours'  swift  but  noiseless  travel,  Part- 
ridge said  : 

"  Now,  we  are  near  Skinner's  ranch  ;  and  if  you  will 
remain  here,  I  will  reconnoitre  and  report  to  you." 

Clayton's  servant,  Dick,  had  joined  the  party,  and  was 
by  his  master's  side. 

Soon,  Partridge  returned,  saying  : 

"  I  see  Sam  has  a  light  burning  in  his  cabin,  which 
means  there  is  danger.  I  will  go  and  warn  him  and  his 
fellow  servants  and  then  have  them  quietly  saddle  the 
horses,  and  you  can  keep  watch  on  the  house  where  the 
master  and,  perhaps,  his  guests  are  sleeping." 

The  force  was  disposed  of,  and  Duvall  had  Sam  and 
three  other  men  engaged  in  saddling  horses  and  gather- 
ing together  such  articles  as  were  needful  for  the  flight. 

Dick  observed  a  dark  figure  approaching  from  the 
house,  and  gave  a  low  whistle  as  a  warning  to  the  man 
on  guard.     When  this  figure  was  quite  near,  he  said  : 

"Halt!     If  you    raise    a  hand,  you're  a  dead  man!'' 

Skinner,  for  it  was  he,  looked  around  to  find  himself 
face  to  face  with  Dick  who  had  him  covered  with  a  pistol 
not  ten  feet  away  ;  and  though  he  carried  a  navy  revol- 
ver in  his  hand,  he  hesitated  a  moment;  then  turned 
suddenly  and  fired  ;  another  report  followed  his  closely, 
and  Skinner  fell  to  the  ground. 

"  Whar's  Mars  Frank.'  asked  Sam,  running  up. 
"  Dem  debils  '11  be  on  us  now,  suah.  Dem  shots  was 
de  sign  for  dem  to  come  tarin' — I  mean  Mars  Living- 
stone and  Mars  Hart." 

Hastily  mounting  their  horses,  the  party  put  spurs  and 
were  soon  on  their  way  to  the  ferry.  Livingstone,  Hart 
and  four  others  from  an  all-night  debauch  they  had  been 
attending,  arrived  on  the  ground  well  filled  with  whiskey, 
and  in  no  condition  for  hostilities  requiring  cool,  deliber- 
ate action.     Thev  found  Skinner  dead,  and  leavins:  him 


THE    STORMY    PETREI,,  I55 

with  one  of  their  number,  then  followed  a  hasty  consulta- 
tion ;  in  which  they  decided  that  John  Brown  and  his 
"  jay-hawkers  "  were  the  perpetrators,  and  that  they  had 
probably  returned  to  the  ferry  as  the  river  was  too  high 
to  cross  at  the  ford. 

With  a  3'ell  of  rage,  the  party  of  madmen  set  out  b3' 
the  most  direct  route  for  that  point. 

"  There's  hell  to  pay  now !  "  said  Livingstone,  as 
shouting  and  firing  pistols  like  drunken  savages,  they 
started  for  the  ferry. 

Clayton  and  his  party  heard  the  shots  in  the  distance, 
but  they  had  a  good  start,  were  better  mounted,  and  all 
sober.  Arrived  at  the  ferry  just  before  daylight,  they 
found  the  boat  had  been  taken  to  the  opposite  shore, 
while  the  river  had  risen,  and  froth  and  foam  covered 
the  surface  of  the  roaring  stream.  No  time  was  to  be 
lost.  In  order  to  swim  over  to  get  the  ferry-boat,  it  was 
necessary  that  the  swimmer  start  from  above-  and  go 
down  with  the  current. 

Claude  plunged  into  the  mad,  muddy  water,  but 
soon  became  entangled  in  the  underbrush. 

"  Come  back,  Claude,"  shouted  Clayton,  "  and  make 
a  fresh  start.  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  am  a  more  am- 
phibious animal  than  you;  let  me  take  the  lead  in 
this."  And,  stripping  himself  for  the  perilous  swim,  he 
was  soon  out  beyond  the  brush  and  in  the  angry  water. 
All  held  their  breath  in  suspense  until  they  should 
hear  some  signal  of  success. 

Out,  out  into  the  darkness,  the  swimmer  pulled 
carefully,  reserving  his  strength  for  the  final  struggle 
on  the  opposite  side.  In  the  middle  of  the  stream  where 
the  long  rope  stretched  from  shore  to  shore  upon 
which  the  ferry-boat  clung  as  she  glided  back  and 
forth,  Clayton  caught  hold  and  rested  a  moment.  As 
he  clung,  almost  breathless,  there  came  a  drift  of 
logs  and  brushwood,  striking  the  rope  and  lifting 
him  partly  out  of  the  water.  Releasing  his  hold,  he 
sank  beneath  the  surface,  but  soon  reappeared  and 
struck  out  for  the  shore,  where  he  could  just  see 
the  dim  outlines  of  the  boat  and  landing. 

Too  much  exhausted  to  make  any  signal  of  vic- 
tory, he  clung  to  the  end  of  the  boat  to  regain 
his    breath    before    raising    himself    in.     Then    he    sent 


156  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

on  the  wings  of  the  wind  a  shrill  note  over  the 
turbulent  water ;  "  T'ank  God !  He  done  cross  de 
dark  ribber  suah  an'  sartin  !  "  cried  Sam. 

Soon,  the  staple  was  forced  out  by  Clayton  and  the 
bow  of  the  boat  turned  toward  the  opposite  shore.  As 
he  was  approaching  it,  there  came  on  the  chill  morning 
air,  the  shout  of  pursuers  and  the  ominous  report  of 
pistols. 

Partridge  and  Dick  were  now  called  in  from  picket 
duly,  and  all  were  soon  on  board  the  frail  boat,  almost 
too  heavily  laden  for  safety. 

The  voice  of  Livingstone  was  first  heard  as  the  pursu- 
ing party  came  thundering  to  the  landing,  only  to  see,  by 
opposite  light  of  the  early  dawn,  the  boat  nearing  the 
the  shore. 

"  Cut  that   d d  rope,  quick,  boys !     Kill  or  drown 

the  d d  jayhawkers  !  "  he  commanded. 

Meantime,  Kagi  had  posted  his  men  in  the  stern  of  the 
boat  with  orders  to  return  the  first  fire. 

Soon,  the  flash  came,  and  revealed  the  pursuers  in  a 
confused  mass  ;  and  Kagi  sent  a  bullet  from  his  rifle  in 
response  to  their  challenge.  Then  another  and  another 
was  sent  in  quick  succession,  as  the  bow  of  the  boat 
under  Sam's  careful  management  ran  with  a  slight  shock 
against  the  bank. 

A  flash  and  a  volley  from  just  over  their  heads  revealed 
that  John  Brown  had  arrived,  and  was  paying  his  compli- 
ments to  Livingstone  across  the  river,  while  yells  of  rage 
and  defiance  came  over  the  roaring  water,  with  occasional 
shots  from  the  baflfled  pursuers. 

On  ascending  the  bank,  Captain  Brown  was  the  first  to 
grasp  Clayton's  hand,  saying,  as  he  did  so  : 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you  unharmed.  I  trust  all  the 
others  are  safe." 

"We  are  all  right.  Captain,  and  we  have  rescued  our 
inan  and  three  others  in  safety,  to  say  nothing  of  four 
good  horses;  and  we  left  Skinner  wounded  on  the 
ground  near  his  door-sill." 

"  I  had  hoped,"  said  the  captain,  "  we  could  make 
this  expedition  a  success  without  shedding  a  drop  of 
blood.  I  am  glad  to  say  we  have  brought  out  our  entire 
party  without    pulling    a    trigger   until  we  came    here. 

By   this   time    the    team  with    Captain    Browai's    party 


THE    STORMY    PETREL. 


157 


came  up,  composed  of  men,  women,  and  children. 
The  sun  had  risen,  and  the  old  friends,  Sam  and  Dick, 
met  for  the  first  time  face  to  face,  and  embraced  in  their 
demonstrative  fashion. 

And  now  again  the  party  was  put  in  motion,  keeping 
the  edge  of  the  timber  that  skirted  the  river  bank. 

When  a  place  of  safety  had  been  reached  on  Kansas 
soil,  Captain  Brown  and  Clayton,  accompanied  by 
Dick,  rode  by  night  to  Lawrence,  leaving  Kagi  in 
command,  with  instructions  to  use  all  possible  care 
to  avoid  surprise  and  to  move  with  great  care  and 
secrecy  through  to  Nebraska  and  thence  northward. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Clayton  had  returned  to  Lawrence.  One  evening, 
a  week  later,  as  he  sat  watching  the  unusual  glory 
of  the  setting  sun,  he  saw  a  horseman  covered  with 
dust,  ride  at  full  speed  to  the  Eldridge  Hotel,  dismount, 
throw  the  reins  to  a  servant,  and  hastily  ascend  the 
steps.  Clayton  saw  all  this,  but  his  thoughts  were 
far  away  at  the  moment  with  Captain  Brown,  whose 
crayon  portrait  was  standing  upon  a  rustic  easel 
in  the  room.  Lost  in  revery,  he  hardly  heard  the 
light  tap  at  his  door  some  moments  later,  until  it 
was  repeated,  and  he  said,  "  Come  in,"  without  ob- 
serving who  entered. 

"  Is  Mr.  Clayton  in  ?  "  was  demanded,  in  a  youthful 
voice,  the  sound  of  which  brought  Clayton  back  to  the 
world  and  duty. 

"  I  am  he.  What  can  I  do  for  you } "  he  said, 
advancing  toward  his  visitor,  a  youth  of  some  eighteen 
years,  rather  below  the  medium  stature,  with  dark  eyes 
and  hair,  clean-cut  features,  a  fair  oval  face  which  was 
Hushed  from  riding. 

The  messenger  drew  fiom  the  inner  pocket  of  his  coat 
a  letter,  which  he   handed  to  Clayton,  saying  : 

"  I  beg  pardon  for  intruding  upon  you,  Mr.  Clayton, 
but  my  business  would  admit  of  no  delay,  as  you  will 
learn  from  the  contents  of  this  despatch — which  I  hope 
you  will  lose  no  time  in  reading,"  he  added,  seeing 
Clayton  stood  gazing,  as  if  trying  to  read  the  messenger 
instead  of  the  message. 

"  I  beg  you  will  sit  down,"  said  Clayton  kindly — 
"you  look  fatigued,  and  now  may  I  ask  the  name  of 
the  messenger  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  this  de- 
spatch ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Roland  Priest,"  said  the  youth,  with 
downcast  eyes,  as  though  he  dared  not  encounter  the 
earnest  ones  of  the  questioner. 

"  Roland    Priest,"   said  Clayton,   "  I    am  very  thank- 


THE   STORMY    PETREL-  1 59 

ful  for  your  promptness  in  the  delivery  of  the  message, 
since  I  see  it  left  my  old  friend  Captain  Brown  only  last 
night.  Do  you  know  anything  of  the  contents?"  he 
inquired,  looking  up  from  the  paper  and  thinking  how 
unwise  it  was  in  Captain  Brown  to  select  such  an  inexpe- 
rienced youth  to  bear  so  important  a  despatch. 

"  I  only  know,  sir,  that  Captain  Brown  and  his  party 
are  in  great  danger,  and  that  after  writing  and  delivering 
this  letter,  he  said  not  to  come  with  less  than  twenty  men 
and  to  come  without  delay,  by  way  of  Topeka." 

"  I  see  Captain  Brown  says  they  are  surrounded  ; — 
did  you  come  through  without  adventure  or  discovery?  " 

"Yes — I  mean  no,  sir.  There  was  discovery,  and 
some  adventure  in  getting  beyond  the  enemy's  lines 
which  are  drawn  pretty  close  around  Captain  Brown's 
party." 

"  I  notice  on  this  envelope.  Mr.  Priest " 

"  Please  call  me  Roland,  Mr.  Clayton  ;  I  am  not  used 
to  being  called  'Mister;'  and — and — it  confuses  me," 
interrupted  the  young  man,  blushing  like  a  girl. 

"Well,  'Roland'  then;  I  observe  blood-stains  upon 
this  envelope  ;  and  I  trust  Captain  Brown's  messenger 
was  not  hurt  seriously  in  bearing  his  despatch  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir — I  think — I  mean,  the  other  messenger  is 
hurt  quite  badly." 

"  Then,  you  are  not  the  same  person  into  whose  hands 
Captain  Brown  delivered  this  paper?" 

"No,  sir;  I  took  the  despatch  when  the  other  messen- 
ger fainted  from  loss  of  blood,  and  I  brought  it  as  soon 
as  possible " 

"Pardon  me  :  I  was  only  wondering  how  my  old  friend 
came  to  select  such  a  young  and,  perhaps,  inexperi- 
enced  " 

"Yes,  I  understand,  but  the  messenger  who  started 
with  the  despatch  was  one  of  the  swiftest  and  most  dar- 
ing riders  in  all  Kansas;  but  you  see,  there  were  unfore- 
seen difficulties,  and  you  ought  to  be " 

"Thankful,  you  would  justly  say,  for  the  delivery  of  the 
message,"  interjected  Clayton.  "And  so  I  am.  You 
are  a  brave  young  man,  and  will  make  your  mark  in  life. 
But  now,  you  must  have  rest  and  something  to  eat,  if  you 
are  to  accompany  us,  as  you  say." 

"What  time  will  you  start,  Mr.  Clayton  ?" 


l6o  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"  I  think  we  can  be  ready  by  twelve  o'clock  to-night, 
and  by  hard  riding,  we  can  be  within  striking  distance  of 
Captain  Brown's  position  by  the  same  hour  to-morrow 
night." 

After  registering  his  name  in  the  hotel,  Roland  was 
shown  to  his  room  to  rest ;  and  Clayton  sallied  forth  to 
find  the  requisite  twenty  men  who  could  be  mounted  and 
ready  for  the  hard  ride  and  prospective  fight. 

The  first  persons  he  met,  were  Partridge  and  Parker  ; 
the  former  of  whom  was  of  John  Brown's  liberating  party 
which  had  recently  returned  from  Missouri,  and  they  had 
their  own  horses.  Both  would  be  ready  and  meet  on 
Mount  Oread  at  the  hour  designated,  armed  and 
equipped. 

Several  others  were  found  who  would  gladly  go,  onl}' 
they  were  not  provided  with  horses.  Colonel  Eldridge, 
the  proprietor  of  the  Eldridge  House,  came  up  where  a 
group  of  three  men  were  discussing  the  matter,  and  said 
promptly : 

"1  have  twenty  horses  at  your  command,  Clayton,  if 
so  many  are  needed.  No  man  need  stay  who  w-ants  to 
go  on  such  a  mission  ?  " 

So,  through  this  patriotic  and  generous  offer,  in  less 
than  two  hours  the  party  was  made  up  under  promise  to 
report  on  Mount  Oread  at  midnight. 

On  returning  to  the  hotel,  Clayton  found  that  Roland 
had  supped  and  retired,  asking  to  be  excused  to  Mr. 
Clayton,  and  to  be  called  at  half-past  eleven  o'clock. 

In  order  to  understand  the  preceding,  we  must  rejoin 
John  Brown  in  the  preliminary  movements  of  his  under- 
taking. 


CHAPTER  XXXIL 

Captain  Brown  had  determined  to  move  quietly 
through  Kansas  and  Nebraska,  when  he  took  up  the  Hne 
of  march  for  freedom,  making  no  demonstration  in  Iowa  or 
elsewhere,  which  would  tend  to  excite  opposition,  as  the 
rewards  offered  by  the  Governor  of  Missouri  and  the 
President  of  the  United  Slates,  were  likely  to  make  new 
and  additional  incentive  to  the  excited  and  embittered 
spirit  in  the  South  and  some  parts  of  the  North  as 
well. 

Evidence  was  furnished  of  parties  being  organized  for 
the  purpose  of  interrupting  his  march,  with  headquarters 
both  at  Lecompton  and  Atchison. 

About  a  day's  journey  beyond  Topeka,  he  had  unmis- 
takable evidence  of  the  enemy's  spies  and  pickets  hang- 
ing on  the  fianks  of  the  little  band,  carefully  keeping  out 
of  range  of  his  Sharpe's  rifles,  but  rarely  out  of  sight. 

Riding  thoughtfully  in  advance  of  his  train,  it  occurred 
to  him  that  a  messenger  ought  to  be  sent  to  Lawrence  for 
the  promised  reinforcement.  As  night  drew  near,  he 
decided  to  go  into  camp  beside  a  narrow  stream  bordered 
by  a  thick  growth  of  timber.  On  the  western  bank,  over- 
looking the  country,  stood  a  double  log  cabin  with  strong 
doors  chinked  between  the  logs  with  stones,  over  which 
was  plastered  a  coat  of  red  clay. 

Before  unharnessing  the  teams.  Captain  Brown  rode  up 
to  this  comfortable  log  cabin  and,  in  response  to  his  call, 
a  young  man,  dressed  in  a  hunting-suit  of  buckskin, 
came  out.  His  quick  elastic  step,  dark  eyes,  waving  hair 
and  open  brow,  bespoke  a  youth  in  whom  border  life  and 
its  attendant  dangers  had  brought  out  the  full  vigor  of 
his  not  more  than  twenty  years.  He  wore  at  his  belt 
a  navy  revolver  and  large  hunting-knife. 

"Come  in.  Captain  ?"  said  the  young  man,  in  a  pleas- 
ant voice,  as  he  came  promptly  forward  and  took  the  ex- 
tended hand  of  Captain  Brown,  who  had  dismounted  as  he 
also  advanced. 


1 62  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

"  Why,  Roland  Priest.  I  am  rejoiced  to  see  you  ;  and 
is  this  your  cabin  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Captain,  these  are  my  bachelor  quarters.  My 
mother  lives  up  the  creek  a  few  miles,  and  I  am  down 
here  to  look  after  my  claim.  Are  these  your  teams 
down  at  the  creek.  Captain  ? " 

"  Yes,  those  are  my  wards  on  the  road  to  freedom,  of 
whom  you  perhaps  have  heard." 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard,  and  I  warn  you  that  others  also 
have  heard  of  your  undertaking.  You  had  better  stop 
here  to-night,  and  bring  your  wagons  up  to  the  house ; — 
you  will  be  more  comfortable  as  well  as  safe.  I  have 
noticed  here  to-day,  more  than  a  dozen  men,  mounted 
and  armed,  passing  and  repassing.  They  are  evidently 
on  ;he  lookout  for  your  train,  and  you  may  expect  an  at- 
tack before  you  go  much  further." 

The  teams  were  driven  up  in  the  yard  and  unhitched  ; 
the  negroes  were  safely  housed,  and  preparations  made 
for  supper,  v^rhen  Roland  Priest  and  Captain  Brown 
walked  out,  talking  of  their  old  home  in  York  State,  where 
they  were  neighbors. 

''  How  did  your  mother  ever  consent  to  come  out  to 
this  wild  country,  Roland  }  "  asked  the  captain, 

"  I  tell  you.  Captain,  I  acquired  a  taste  for  this  west- 
ern life,  as  you  know,  and  I  couldn't  stay  there  content- 
edly ;  and  mother  finally  decided  that  she  would  rather 
live  here  with  me  than  there  without  me,  so  we  are  all 
here  now,  safe  and  sound." 

"What  of  your  sister,  Isabel.  How  does  she  like  this 
life  ? " 

"Admirably,  Captain.  She  often  hunts  with  me,  and 
is  a  captial  shot  and  horsewoman.  You  must  go  up  with 
me  and  see  my  mother.  She'll  be  so  glad  to  see 
you." 

"  Ah,  my  boy,  much  as  I  would  like  to  see  my  old 
friends,  I  dare  not  leave  my  post  of  duty,  now^.  And 
that  reminds  me — there  must  be  posted  a  picket  guard  at 
once.  Ride  out  with  me  and  let  us  select  a  good  point. 
You  are  familiar  with  the  location  ?  " 

The  two  men  mounted  and  rode  out  a  half-mile  beyond 
the  cabin  to  an  elevated  point  from  which  the  picket 
could  command  a  good  view  of  the  surrounding  country. 
As  they  were  sitting  in  their  saddles  enjoying  the  beauti- 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  1 63 

ful  prospect,  looking  westward,  two  men  rode  up  a  ravine 
and  stood  in  the  path  several  hundred  yards  away.  See- 
ing Captain  Brown  and  Roland,  they  moved  off  in  the 
opposite  direction,  paying  no  heed  to  the  command 
to  halt,  but  answered  by  two  ringing  shots  from  their 
rifles,  as  they  put  spurs  to  their  horses  and  rode 
away. 

'"There  is  a  challenge  for  you,  Captain.  They  are  in 
force,  with  ways  guarded;  for  they  never  would  have 
made  such  an  assault  if  they  had  not  been  sure  of  their 
game.  Now.  what  is  to  be  done  ?  I'll  warrant  the  road 
from  here  to  Topeka,  as  well  as  (jrasshopper  Falls,  is 
guarded." 

"  Yes,  perhaps,"  said  Captian  pjrown  ;  "  But  let  us  go 
inside  and  talk  the  matter  over.  We  must  act  with  delib- 
eration." 

"  Roland,  my  boy,"  said  the  captain,  when  they  were 
seated  in  the  cabin,  "can  you  carry  a  despatch  to  Law- 
rence for  me,  and  start  immediately?  " 

"  I'll  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  serve  you  ;  only  I 
should  be  glad  to  go  home,  a  distance  of  only  a  few  miles, 
and  inform  mother  and  Isabel  of  my  absence  and  my 
mission.  They  are  looking  for  me  at  this  moment,  and  I 
never  disappoint  them  when  I  can  help  it." 

"  How  much  out  of  your  way  is  it  ?  " 

"Very  little.  My  horse  Thunderbolt  carries  me  as  if  I 
were  a  feather,  and  thus  there  will  be  little  time  lost." 

In  half  an  hour  Roland  Priest  stood  before  the  cap- 
tain in  boots  and  spurs,  ready  for  the  ride. 

"  Roland,"  said  the  old  captain,  "  do  you  appreciate 
the  danger  as  well  as  the  importance  of  this  ride  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  do.  Captain  ;  and  you  may  depend  upon  my 
seeing  your  friend  Mr.  Clayton  and  carrying  out  your  in- 
structions." 

"  Read  them  first,  so  you  will  understand  the  situ- 
ation," said  the  captain. 

Roland  read  aloud. 

"  Danger  Creek  Crossing. 
"  My  Dear  Clayton  : — 

"We  are  here  surrounded  by  the  enemy.  We  are 
fortified  in  the  two  cabins  on  the  bank,  and  can  hold  out 
against  a  hundred  until  succored.     Come    at    once  with 


164  THE   STORM V    PETREL, 

double  the  force  agreed  upon.     Messenger  lias  \erbal  in- 
structions to  avoid  mishap,  and  you  can  trust  him. 

"  Yours  trulv, 

'     "J.  B." 

"  Now  for  verbal  instructions,'"  said  the  captain,  when 
the  young  man  had  finished  reading.  '•  I  want  Clayton 
to  bring  not  less  than  twenty  men  and  to  come  via 
Topeka,  and  co-operate  with  any  force  he  may  find  there, 
but  on  no  condition  to  wait  a  moment,  but  come  at  once. 
Let  him  move  so  as  to  reach  here,  if  all  works  well,  by 
Sunday  morning,  and  make  the  attack  about  daylight. 
You,  of  course,  will  return  with  him.  You  will  find  him  at 
the  Eldridge  House  on  Massachusetts  Street,  Lawrence." 

Roland  Priest  led  his  horse  down  the  bank  of  the 
creek,  and  was  soon  hidden  in  darkness  from  Cap- 
tain Brown,  who  stood  in  the  door  watching  the  mes- 
senger upon  whom  so  much  now-  depended. 

Skirting  the  creek  was  a  narrow  strip  of  bottom-land, 
which  Roland  followed  for  some  distance,  where  a  high 
plateau  formed  the  bank  to  the  creek,  compelling  him  to 
emerge,  since  he  could  not  cross  on  account  of  the 
treacherous  bottom. 

As  he  came  to  the  top,  he  stood  for  a  moment,  peering 
in  every  direction  for  the  enemy's  pickets,  which  he  had 
no  doubt  were  posted  not  far  from  this  point.  Not  see- 
ing or  hearing  anything  suspicious,  he  remounted  Thun- 
derbolt and  rode  caiefuUy  for  a  short  distance,  when  his 
liorse  swerved  to  one  side  as  a  voice  with  an  oath  called 
nut  : 

"  HALT  !  OR  YOU  ARE  A  DEAD  MAN  !  " 

Roland,  without  obeying  the  conunand  or  stopping  to 
think  of  the  consequences,  threw  himself  forward  and  to 
the  opposite  side  of  his  horse,  at  the  same  time  firing  his 
revolver  at  the  dark  outline  of  a  man  and  horse  but  a  few 
rods  away,  saying  as  he  did  so  : 

'•  Now,  Thunderbolt,  go  ! '' 

He  saw  a  flash  from  his  antagonist's  pistol,  and  felt  a 
sharp  twinge  in  his  shoulder  that  warned  him  he  was  hit, 
but  he  hoped  not  seriously,  as  he  found  the  use  of  his 
arm  not  impaired.  Riding  directly  home,  he  dismounted 
and  staggered,  faint  and  exhausted,  into  his  mother's 
presence. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  165 

"O  my  son  !  "  was  the  greeting  that  met  him  at  the 
threshold.      "  Roland,  what  has  happened  .''  '' 

"  Oh,  he  is  dying  !"  exclaimed  Isabel,  in  terror. 

Dr.  Russell  was  most  fortunately  at  a  neighboring  house 
and  in  five  minutes  was  with  the  distressed  family. 

"  Do  you  feel  any  internal  pain  ^  "'  inquired  the  doc- 
tor.    "  Take  a  long  breath  ? '" 

Roland  did  as  requested,  and  found  considerable  pain 
from  breathing,  and  spat  blood. 

"  Now,"  said  the  physician,  "  you  must  lie  down  and 
remain  as  quiet  as  possible." 

"  Doctor,"  said  the  wounded  boy,  "■  I  cannot.  I  am  in- 
trusted with  an  important  dispatch  from  Captain  Brown." 

"No  matter,"  said  the  doctor,  "from  whom  the  dis- 
patch is,  nor  for  whom,  you  can  go  no  further." 

"  Dear  Roland,"  said  Isabel,  "  give  yourself  no  anxiety 
about  this  dispatch.  I  know  of  a  messenger  who  will  take 
your  place." 

In  a  whispered  tone,  Roland  gave  his  sister  the  verbal 
instructions  he  had  received  from  Captain  Brown,  and 
handed  her  the  letter,  then  fell  back  fainting. 

For  a  few  minutes,  the  house  was  in  a  state  of  alarm, 
then  Roland  wearily  opened  his  eyes  and  inquired  what 
had  happened  ? 

Isabel  knelt  by  the  side  of  the  couch  and  kissed  the  pal- 
lid face. 

"  What  a  likeness  !  "  said  Dr.  Russell,  "even  for  twin 
brother  and  sister  it  is  remarkable  !  " 

''Rolla,  the  doctor  says  you  are  not  too  much  hurt  for 
me  to  leave  you  for  a  while,  and  he  will  remain  with  vou  ; 
so  good-bye,  my  darling."  Then  stopping  at  the  door  with 
her  mother,  she  said  a  few  words  in  an  inaudible  tone, 
and  Isabel  Priest  vanished  with  John  Brown's  dispatch. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

At  precisely  half-past  eleven  o'clock  Clayton  rapped  at 
the  door  of  Roland  Priest's  room  in  the  Free  State  Hotel, 
and  the  response  came  promptly. 

"  RoUa — oh,  Mr.  Clayton.  Yes,  I  remember.  I  will 
soon  be  down." 

Clayton  pacetl  the  floor  impatiently,  wondering  who  the 
"  Rolla  "  could  be  for  whom  this  young  man,  in  his  first 
waking  moments,  mistook  him. 

Soon  Roland  appeared  in  person,  somewhat  pale,  but 
refreshed. 

•'  1  hope  I  have  not  delayed  you.  I  was  tired,  and  slept 
soundl)^,  but  I  am  at  your  service  now." 

The  coffee  was  brought,  and  while  partaking  of  it  Ro- 
land's face  deepened  in  color  under  the  intense  gaze 
of  his  companion,  who  saw  in  the  boy  an  unexplained 
mystery,  that  one  seemingly  so  young,  refined  and 
educated,  should  be  leading  such  a  wild,  adventurous 
life,  and  yet  changing  color  like  a  girl  under  his  scrutiniz- 
ing gaze. 

But  there  was  no  time  for  pondering  over  these  prob- 
lems, and  the  two  were  soon  in  their  saddles,  wending 
their  way  to  Mt.  Oread,  where  were  assembled  the  relief 
party,  eighteen  in  number. 

Only  a  few  minutes  after  twelve  o'clock  they  were 
joined  by  Clayton  and  his  young  companion  on  Mount 
Oread. 

'■  Gentlemen,"  said  the  strong,  manly  voice  of  Henry 
Parker,  "  I  suggest  that  Mr.  Clayton  shall  command  this 
expedition." 

"  I  endorse  what  friend  Parker  has  said,"  responded 
Partridge,  "and  hope  that  Mr.  Clayton  will  be  unani- 
mously chosen  to  command  our  relief  party." 

"  Ay  !  Ay  !  "  responded  every  voice. 

Clayton  thanked  them  for  their  confidence  in  him,  and 
accepted  the  responsibility. 

Then,  in  line,  counted  off  by  "  twos,"  they  wheeled  into 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  1 67 

column,  and  the  command  "  Forward  ! "  was  given  as 
Clayton  and  Roland  Priest  rode  at  their  head. 

Sunrise  found  the  party  dismounting  at  the  hotel  at 
'i'opeka,  where  man  and  beast  were  refreshed,  after  which, 
the  day's  march  was  resumed,  and  a  beautiful  day  it 
proved.  Though  winter,  it  was  a  spring  day  in  tempera- 
ture. The  news  of  Capt.  Brown's  perilous  situation 
created  excitement  in  Topeka,  and  a  party  was  to  be  or- 
ganized to  co-operate  with  the  Lawrence  force  at  once,  and 
follow  to  the  rescue. 

The  day's  march  was  drawing  near  its  close,  as  Frank 
Clayton  and  Roland  Priest  rode  side  by  side. 

"  Observe,  Roland,  what  a  peculiar  haze  of  a  rich  pink- 
ish hue  the  heavens  have  in  the  west;  not  only  at  the  ho- 
rizon, but  far  above.  What  can  it  mean  ?  See  there.  It 
runs  in  broad  feathery  lines,  as  of  falling  rain." 

"  I  also  have  observed  a  chill  in  the  atmosphere,  Mr. 
Clayton.  That  augurs  a  radical  change  in  the  weather. 
It  looks  very  like  a  snow-storm." 

The  wind  sprang  up  from  the  northwest;  the  sun  sank 
lower  and  lower,  and  finally  disappeared  in  a  dark  bank 
of  clouds. 

The  pinkish  color  of  the  heavens  gradually  merged  into 
the  more  sombre  hue  of  the  storm  cloud;  then  the  whole 
]5anorama  was  illuminated  by  fiery  zigzag  lines  as  the 
lightning  cleft  for  an  instant  these  masses  of  cloud,  fol- 
lowed by  the  sharp  report  of  thunder. 

Others  of  the  party  looked  in  dismay  at  the  phenome- 
non as  they  rode  under  whip  and  spur  by  order  of  their 
commander,  hastening  to  reach  the  timber  before  the 
storm  overtook  them. 

In  half  an  hour  the  storm  burst  upon  the  travellers,  who 
were  little  prepared  for  its  approach. 

"  We  cannot  be  far  from  that  skirt  of  timber  on  our 
right,  can  we  .-* "  asked  Clayton  of  young  Priest. 

"  No,  I  think  not ;  but  had  we  not  better  keep  on,  at 
least  to  the  crossing,  where  we  will  find  shelter  ?  "  replied 
Roland,  as  the  blinding  wind  and  snow  obscured  all  ob- 
jects. 

"  Halt !  Who  comes  tliere  !  "  exclaimed  Clayton  as  the 
column  came  upon  a  number  of  dark  objects  driven  with 
the  fury  of  the  snow-storm  which  had  now  burst  upon 
them  in  full  force. 


l6S  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

To  the  command  and  inquiry,  given  in  quick  succession, 
there  was  a  loud  "  Mooah,  mooah,"  from  ihe  deep  throats 
of  a  large  herd  of  cattle,  and  the  response  was  taken  up 
and  repeated  all  the  way  down  the  line  of  terror-stricken 
animals,  as  they  continued  their  course  with  the  wind  and 
snow,  in  the  direction  of  the  timber  on  the  right  of  the 
line  of  march. 

The  episode  was  so  absurd  that  despite  the  i:)L'ril  there 
was  a  shout  of  laughter  in  which  all  joined,  though  they 
realized  the  danger  of  a  snow-storm  on  a  western   prairie. 

Keeping  the  wind  to  their  backs,  and  joining  the  herd  of 
cattle,  they  soon  reached  the  timber  skirting  the  small 
stream  whose  high  banks  and  some  fallen  trees  with  over- 
lapping cedars,  furnished  temporary  shelter  for  the  little 
party.  Soon,  a  roaring  five  was  crackling  in  the  branches 
of  a  fallen  oak  ;  horses  secured,  and  arrangements  made 
for  spending  the  night  in  this  wild  and  desolate  region. 

Details  of  men  were  made  to  keep  guard  and  others  to 
bring  wood  for  the  fire,  which  had  no  sooner  shed  its 
bright  and  cheering  rays  through  the  clouds  of  drifting 
snow,  than  the  herd  which  liad  preceded  the  horsemen, 
began  to  crowd  around  and  almost  contest  the  space 
about  it  with  the  men  who  were  busily  piling  on  tlie 
broken  boughs. 

Through  the  long  and  seemingly  interminable  night 
these  beasts  at  short  intervals  would  indulge  in  lowing 
plaintively,  which,  interspersed  with  the  shrieking  wind 
and  the  occasional  sharp  click  of  their  horns  as  they 
crowded  around  the  fire,  sounded  not  unlike  the  snapping 
of  hungry  wolves  accompanied  by  low  rumbling  as  of  dis- 
tant thunder,  as  one  after  another  of  the  vast  herd  shook 
from  his  shaggy  coat  the  fast  accumulating  burden  of 
snow.  Their  eyes  gleamed  in  the  dim  light  like  so  many 
phosphorescent  lamps,  and  the  falling  snow-flakes  seemed 
like  myriad  moths  diving  into  unearthly  fires.  These 
weird  sights  and  sounds,  in  addition  to  the  storm  of  wind, 
roaring  and  howling  among  the  groaning  trees,  made  a 
deep  impression  upon  even  the  stoutest  of  the  party. 

Sheltered  under  the  boughs  of  a  spreading  cedar, 
Clayton  and  Roland  sat,  looking  into  the  fire  in  silence  ; 
and  ever  and  anon,  the  pale  face  of  the  youth  was 
upturned  to  the  other  inquiringly,  as  if  to  ask  if  all  were 
well. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  l6g 

Clayton  was  nut.  unmindful  of  what  was  passing  in  his 
companion's  mind,  who  drew  instinctively  closer  to  him, 
and  he  answered  reassuringly  : 

"  We  are  all  safe,  my  boy,  have  no  fear." 

About  midnight,  as  the  fury  of  the  storm  abated  some- 
what, and  the  cattle  became  more  quite,  Clayton  said  : 

*'  Come,  Roland,  you  must  lie  down  and  have  your  rest. 
No  soldier  can  do  his  whole  duty  who  goes  into  battle  cold, 
worn,  and  without  sleep.  If  you  are,  as  you  say,  afraid 
for  both  of  us  to  sleep  at  once,  f  will  keep  watch  while  you 
get  a  few  hours'  sleep  ;  and  then  you  may  take  your  turn  in 
the  vigils." 

"I  will  lie  down  on  the  condition  that  you  call  me  in 
two  or  three  hours, — which  is  all  the  sleep  I  want." 

"Indeed,  Master  Roland,  after  your  two  days'  ride  and 
only  a  half  night's  rest,  I  am  sure  you  need  sound  sleep; 
so  now,  wrap  yourself  in  this  blanket,  and  lie  down." 

And  without  further  parley,  Roland  pulled  the  felt  hat 
down  over  head  and  face,  and  was  soon  asleep. 

Hour  after  hour,  as  each  relief  came  on,  the  fires  were 
renewed,  and  still  Roland  Priest  slept  on  and  Frank 
Clayton  kept  his  watch.  Tired  and  sleepy,  he  said  to 
himself  :  "  Why  should  I  not  lie  down  and  get  some  rest } 
This  youngster  has  no  right  to  dictate  such  terms."  And 
putting  his  hand  upon  the  blanket  to  turn  it  aside,  Roland 
started  up  and  took  his  post  as  officer  of  the  guard  while 
sleep  brought  refreshing  rest  to  Clayton. 

At  daylight,  the  relief  party  mounted  and  ascended  the 
bluff,  now  covered  with  snow,  leaving  the  cattle  in  posses- 
sion of  the  camp  and  crowding  into  the  vacant  space 
around  the  fire. 

The  dim  outline  of  Danger  Creek  Forest  was  discerned 
some  miles  away,  to  which  Clayton  and  party  marched 
across  the  trackless  expanse. 

Soon  the  cruling  smoke  that  issued  from  the  chimney 
of  a  cabin  in  the  distance,  was  discernible;  and  Roland, 
porn  ting  to  it,  said  :  '•  There — that  is  Danger  Creek 
Crossing,  and  there  is  the  cabin  in  which  Captain  Brown 
is  lodged.*' 

Keeping  well  under  cover  of  the  bank  and  skirt  of  tim- 
ber, Clayton  led  his  men  unobserved,  within  striking  dis- 
tance;  then  halting  the  column,  Mr.  Partridge  was  given 
command  of   a  detachment  with   instructions  to   remain 


170 


THE   STORMY    PETREL. 


quiet  until  Clayton,  with  the  remainder  of  the  men,  had 
made  a  short  detour  under  cover  of  an  angle  of  the  creek 
bank,  whereb\'  he  could  strike  the  besieging  force  from 
another  quarter,  whose  pickets  and  smoke  from  their 
camp-fires  could  be  seen.  A  single  shot  was  to  be  the 
signal  for  a  simultaneous  charge  with  a  loud  shout  "  to 
follow  the  enemy  as  far  as  you  can  see  him,  and  meet  at 
the  cabin." 

Turning  to  Roland,  Clayton  said : 

"  Will  you  go  with  us,  or  remain  here  ?  Perhaps  you  will 
be  less  exposed  here." 

"  No,  Mr.  Clayton,  I  am  familiar  with  the  country,  and 
can  give  you  the  benefit  of  my  knowledge.  I'll  go  with 
you." 

Winding  around  the  hill  for  a  half  mile  or  so,  a  favorable 
position  was  obtained  from  which  the  single  picket  on  dut}' 
could  be  seen  on  this  side  of  the  creek.  The  cabin  was  in 
full  view.  Captain  Brown  and  party  were  all  astir,  and  a 
move  was  evidently  contemplated. 

Carefully  stealing  to  the  top  of  the  bank,  in  line, 
Clayton  raised  his  rifle  and  fired  at  the  picket;  then 
gave  the  command  to  charge,  and  away  went  the  pursued 
and  pursuers,  and  almost  instantly.  Partridge  and  his 
party  came  shouting  and  firing  over  the  hill. 

Taken  entirely  by  surprise,  the  border  ruffian  relief 
mounted  and  rode  helter  skelter  in  different  direc- 
tions. 

"Every  man  for  himself,"  said  the  last  of  the  pickets, 
'•  and  the  devil  take  the  hindmost !  " 

It  was  an  odd  spectacle,  as  the  men  rode  pell-mell  into 
the  deep  snow,  the  plunging  steeds  throwing  the  light 
feathery  snow  in  clouds  about  them.  The  ringing  reports 
of  rifles  broke  upon  the  clear  cold  atmosphere,  mingled 
with  the  shouting  of  both  sides. 

A  small  party  of  the  enemy,  in  attempting  to  escape 
in  the  direction  of  Lecompton,  were  cut  off  by  Clayton's 
detachment  and  driven  back  upon  Captain  IBrown,  who 
took  them  prisoners. 

Clayton  and  Roland  rode  side  by  side  in  hot  pursuit 
of  the  enemy.  Commanding  one  of  the  pickets  to  halt 
and  not  being  obeyed,  Clayton  looked  in  astonishment  to 
see  that  Roland  had  not  drawn  his  pistol,  but  was  pale 
and  agitated. 


THE   STOP  MY  PETREL,  171 

"Why  Roland,  you  don't  show  fight!"  exclaimed 
Clayton,  as  he  took  aim  with  his  own  pistol. 

"Oh,  don't  shoot,  Mr.  Clayton!"  pleaded  his  compan- 
ion. 

Continuing  the  chase,  Clayton  shouted,  "  Halt !  "  and 
quickly  fired  over  the  head  of  the  fleeing  horseman.  The 
shot  had  the  desired  efTect,  for  he  halted,  turned  round, 
and  held  up  his  hands  in  token  of  surrender. 

"Ah,  Livingstone,  again  I  have  the  drop  on  you  !  "  ex- 
claimed Clayton,  as  he  covered  him  with  his  pistol.  "You 
are  a  foolhardy  fellow,  and  owe  your  life  to  this  young 
man."  Observing  another  body  of  men,  Clayton  said, 
"  Here,  Roland,  you  and  Dick "  (who  came  up  at  this 
juncture)  "  disarm  and  take  this  prisoner,  and  turn  him 
over  to  Captain  Brown  with  my  compliments.  Tell  the 
captain  I'll  see  him  later." 

Putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  Clayton  rode  away  with 
the  rest  of  the  detachment  in  pursuit  of  the  fleeing  horse- 
men, leaving  the  prisoner  to  be  conducted  toward  the 
cabin,  some  two  miles  distant,  by  Dick  and  Roland. 

Captain  Brown  demanded  the  surrender  of  the  four  men 
who  had  been  driven  back  on  his  camp.  Their  fine 
horses  were  given  to  Jim  and  Sam  and  to  two  others  of 
the  party  of  negroes  who  were  not  mounted.  Against 
this  order  the  prisoners  protested  and  -swore  loudly. 
Captain  Brown  ordered  them  to  desist,  at  which  they  re- 
doubled their  blasphemy. 

"  Now,"  said  Captain  Brown,  drawing  his  pistol  and  ap- 
proaching one  prisoner,  who  was  fairly  melting  the  snow 
with  his  red-hot  oaths,  "  you  shall  kneel  down  here,  and 
ask  God  to  forgive  you  for  blaspheming  His  sacred  name. 
Come,  sir,  kneel  down  !  " 

The  prisoner  looked  sullenly  into  the  captain's  face  as 
the  latter  continued,  with  pistol  levelled  at  his  head : 

"  ril  give  you  just  two  minutes  in  which  to  determine 
whether  you  will  kneel  down,  or  be  shot  down." 

In  the  face  of  the  old  man  who  held  the  revolver  with 
its  leaden  messenger  of  death,  there  was  written  in  un- 
mistakable lines  of  determination  the  decree,  If  you 
will  not  do  right  and  serve  God  while  living,  then  you 
shall  die  at  the  hands  of  His  agent.  Without  waiting  for 
two    minutes    to   expire,  he    knelt    in    the    snow^,    in   the 


172  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

presence  of  his  friends  and  enemies,  and  prayed  God  to 
"  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner." 

When  he  was  about  to  rise,  Captain  Brown  forbade,  and, 
with  uncovered  head,  prayed  God  to  grant  this  now  peni- 
tent child  of  sin  the  forgiveness  he  sought  for  his  many 
transgressions,  "  and  turn  him,  O  heavenly  Father,  turn 
him  from  the  persecution  of  thine  own  children  as  thou 
didst  Saul  of  Tarsus,  and  make  him  one  of  thy  powerful 
insiruments  for  the  establishment  of  the  truth  and  of  free- 
dom." 

Just  as  the  kneeling  man  had  risen,  Roland  and  Dick, 
who  had  arrived  during  this  episode,  came  forward  with 
their  prisoner. 

Captain  Brown  welcomed  the  messenger  with  extended 
hands. 

"  Roland,  my  boy,  I  am  proud  of  you  !  " 

The  youth  dismounted  and  put  up  his  pistol.  Captain 
Brown  shook  both  hands  of  the  young  soldier,  who  had 
received  the  first  lesson  in  war  or  the  "  baptism  by  fire." 
Looking  intently  in  the  youthful  face,  he  suddenly  released 
ihe    hands,   and  said,  stepping  back  a  pace  : 

"  What  ?   Oh,  my  God !  My  child,  what  does  this  mean  1  " 

Putting  his  finger  to  his  lip  and  shaking  his  head, 
Roland  ran  into  the  open  arms  of  Captain  Brown,  and 
whispered  in  his  ear  what  the  reader  already  knows. 

"  God  will  bless  you,  my  child, — yes,  abundantly  bless 
you  for  your  heroic  act !  Tell  me  of  Clayton.  Where  is 
he  ? " 

"  He  sent  this  prisoner,"  said  Roland,  turning  to  Liv- 
ingstone, who,  under  Dick's  watchful  eye  had  dismounted, 
"  and   he  was   in  pursuit   of   the   enemy  when    last  seen." 

Capt.  Brown  ordered  the  train  to  move  forward,  and 
Roland  to  ride  by  his  side  and  relate  as  they  rode  the 
horrors  of  the  past  night. 

"  I  suppose  you  were  frightened,  my  dear,  when  the 
storm  struck  you,"  said  Captain    Brown. 

"  Oh,  it  was  terrible  !  What  with  the  roaring  of  the  storm 
and  the  unearthly  noises  of  the  cattle,  I  believe  I  should 
have  died  of  fright  had  not  Mr.  Clayton  kept  alive  my 
courage," 

"Then  you  like  Mr.  Clayton?" 

"  Oh,  I  admire  bravery.  I  know  him  so  slightly,  you 
see,  I  cannot  say." 


THE  STORMY  PETREL.  1 73 


"  Does  he  suspect- 


"  Nothing,"  added  the  youth,  turning  quickly,  "and  I 
would  not  have  him  know  for  the  world.  Leave  him 
where  he  is,  in  bewilderment  and  doubt  as  to  who  the 
first  messenger,  or  Roland  Priest,  or  both  of  them,  are. 
And  now  here  is  the  road  that  leads  to  our  cabin,  and  I 
must  leave  you,  Captain." 

"  My  child,  how  can  I  sufficiently  thank  you  or  express 
my  gratitude  }  I  wish  I  could  make  you  believe  it  were 
best  that  I  should  inform  Mr.  Clayton  of  this  service  and 
to  whom  the  honor  is  due." 

"  No,  no.  Captain.  You  must  allow  me  to  manage  this 
myself.  The  gratitude  and  appreciation  you  have  ex- 
pressed is  payment  a  thousand-fold." 

Tears  were  on  the  youthful  face,  and  the  strong  lines 
in  the  war-worn  visage  of  John  Brown  relaxed  and  soft- 
ened into  womanly  sympathy  and  tenderness  as  with  a 
mutual  "  God  bless  you  !  "  the  two  parted. 

Turning  abruptly  to  the  right  over  the  pathless  snow, 
the  youthful  rider  gave  rein  to  the  steed,  which  flew  as  on 
the  wings  of  the  wind.  And  yet  the  pace  was  not  equal  to 
thoughts  which  pictured  the  joyous  return  to  her  mother 
and  Roland.  She  trembled  at  the  thought  of  what  might 
have  happened  in  her  absence. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

The  afternoon  was  well-advanced  when  Partridge  and 
Parker,  with  some  of  their  companions,  arrived  at  the 
cabin  where  Dick  was  found  in  possession,  with  a  roaring 
fire,  to  give  a  warm  welcome  in  the  name  and  by  the 
authority  of  Roland  Priest. 

"  Dick,  where  is  Mr.  Clayton?"  inqijired  Partridge. 

"  Bless  yer  life,  Mars  Partridge,  'deed  I  don't  know. 
I  saw  him  flyin'  cross  de  kuntry  lookin'  fur  all  de  worl' 
like  a  snow-bird." 

"  Why  didn't  you  go  with  him,  Dick  ?  " 

"  Case  he  sent  me  heah  wid  dat  young  Mars  Rolan' 
wid  a  pris'ner  w'at  he  took,  an  tol'  us  to  gib  him  ober  ter 
Cap'n  Brown,  an  we  done  done  it,  an'  Mars  Rolan'  an'  de 
Cap'n  done  gone  'way  on  de  road  rejoicin',  an'  Mars 
Rolan'  say  fer  me  ter  stay  heah  an  ter  keep  de  fire  agoin' 
till  you  all  come." 

Then  Dick  continuing  told  of  the  prayer-meeting  ;  how 
"  de  man  kneel  down  on  de  snow  an'  de  Cap'n  prayed  der 
Lord  ter  turn  dis  heah  sinner  inter  postle  like  Paul  ob 
Sarsus,  an'  ter  gib  him  power  to  stop  prosecutin'  ob  de 
chillen  ob  de  Lor',  an'  dat  de  good  Lor'  would  gib  ter  de 
Cap'n  hisself  de  wise  strength  an'  grace  ter  swaller  up  de 
sinners  in  de  Red  Sea  like  de  sons  ob  men  done  de  chil- 
len ob  Israel  under  de  faithful  sarbint  Moses,  who  did 
lead  dem  a  long  time  ago  from  a  Ian  ob  freedom  ter  a 
Ian'  ob  bondage."  Here  Dick  became  hopelessly  con- 
fused in  his  narrative  upon  observing  his  young  Mars 
Frank  and  his  companion,  who  had  entered  unnoticed, 
and  were  listening  with  much  amusement. 

Night  was  fast  approaching,  and  still  Roland  Priest  did 
not  come.  After  consultation  among  the  party,  all  agreed 
it  would  be  best  to  remain  in  their  present  quarters  until 
morning,  and  make  a  fresh  start  for  Lawrence  on  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

Posting  two  pickets  on  each  side  of  the  creek,  the  little 
party  went  to  rest  at  an  early  hour,  after  many  hearty 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  1 75 

laughs  at  the  individual  and  collective  experiences  of  the 
day.  Claytcn  retired  late,  after  waiting  in  vain  for  the 
return  of  Roland  Priest,  till,  from  utter  exhaustion,  he  fell 
into  a  profound  sleep. 

With  the  morning  came  the  hurry  and  preparation  for 
the  day's  march  to  Lawrence,  and  careful  inquiry  was 
made,  whenever  opportunity  offered,  as  to  where  Roland 
Priest's  mother  lived. 

At  Grasshopper  Falls  Clayton  learned  from  a  citizen 
who  knew  Roland  and  his  twin  sister  Isabel ;  one  who  had 
often  seen  them  together  out  hunting,  she  being  as  fearless 
a  rider  as  he.  "  He  is  called  '  Rolla'  by  his  family  and 
'  Daredevil  Roland'  by  others,"  said  his  informant. 

And  so  the  mystery  was  solved  :  Rolla  and  Roland 
Priest  were  one  and  the  same  person. 

Clayton  was  silent  during  the  long  ride  to  Lawrence, 
recalling  every  word  and  look  of  the  brave  girl,  and  felt 
that  he  had  "entertained  an  angel  unawares." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Arrived  in  Lawrence,  Clayton  and  his  party  dispersed, 
and  but  few  citizens  knew  what  had  transpired  in  the  res- 
cue of  Captain  Brown. 

Clayton  wrote  to  his  informant  at  Grasshopper  Falls  to 
make  further  inquiry  in  regard  to  the  Priest  family ;  and 
some  time  later  thereafter,  was  in  receipt  of  a  short  note, 
which  ran  as  follows  : 

"  House  burned  and  family  disappeared.  If  you  are 
interested,  come  up  and  aid  me  in  searching  out  the  guiltv 
parties." 

Clayton  resolved  to  go  at  once.  On  the  evening  before 
his  departure,  a  letter  was  received  from  Captain  Brown 
stating  that  he  had  gotten  his  party  safely  through  to  a 
land  of  freedom,  and  that  Sam  had  been  sent  home,  re- 
joicing; that  among  the  greatest  of  his  disappointments 
was  strong  opposition  to  his  plans  from  friends  upon  whom 
he  had  so  confidently  relied  for  material,  as  well  as 
moral,  support. 

"  I  am,  however,  resolved  to  make  the  grand  effort, 
come  what  will,"  he  wrote.  "  For  yourself,  I  can  hardly 
find  words  to  express  my  thanks  for  your  timely  rescue." 

"  Now  that  I  think  of  it,  I  beseech  you  to  look  up  Roland 
Priest  and  the  messenger  who  was  so  badly  wounded,  and 
insist  on  knowing  both  them  and  their  needs.  There  is 
that  about  this  aflfair  which  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  com- 
municate to  you,  but  which  you  can  easily  learn  by  seeing 
the  parties. 

"Roland  delivered  your  message  and  your  prisoner, 
Livingstone,  whom  I  subsequently  found  to  be  a  desperate 
man.  We  took  him  with  four  other  prisoners  several  days 
on  our  journey,  retaining  their  horses  and  arms,  allowing 
tbem  finally  to  go  home  on  foot,  wiser  if  not  better  men." 

Soon  after  this,  early  in  the  month  of    May,  Clayton 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  I77 

with  his  friend  from  Grasshopper  Falls  were  crossing  the 
ford  of  Danger  Creek.  Following  the  road  that  led  to 
Mrs.  Priest's  cottage  home,  they  soon  arrived  at  the  mound 
of  ashes  and  the  blackened  beams  that  told  the  story  of 
border  ruffianism  and  the  reign  of  terror  in  Kansas. 

All  that  could  be  learned  was,  that  Dr.  Russell  had 
taken  the  family  to  his  own  home,  and  they  had  now  left 
the  Territor3\ 

Five  miles  up  the  stream  in  a  beautiful  grove  of  timber 
that  skirted  its  banks,  Dr.  Russell's  comfortable  cottage 
was  found.  On  introducing  himself  and  his  errand,  Dr. 
Russell  extended  a  hearty  greeting  as  to  an  old  friend, 
long  expected. 

"  Mr.  Clayton,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  have  been 
hoping  to  see  you  for  some  time  ;  but,  for  the  object  of 
your  search,  I  fear  you  are  too  late.  Mrs.  Priest  and  her 
family  have  left  the  Territory,  never  to  return." 

"It  is  not  too  late,  if  I  can  learn  whither  they  have 
gone," 

"  And  that  you  can  not  have  from  me,  Clayton,  for  I 
do  not  know  exactly  ;  and  then  I  am  forbidden  to  tell 
what  I  do  know." 

"  Doctor,"  said  Clayton,  "  I  am  in  possession  of  a 
letter  from  Captain  John  Brown,  an  old  friend  of  the  fam- 
ily, and  he  urges  me  to  deliver  certain  messages  to  them  in 
person.  You  certainly  have  means  by  which  you  can  com- 
municate with  them,  and  those  means  you  can  furnish  me." 

"Mr.  Clayton,  to  be  quite  frank  with  you,  for  some  rea- 
son Miss  Belle  does  not  wish  to  have  you  know  their 
present  abode.  Under  no  circumstances,  am  I  to  be 
compromised  in  the  matter." 

"  Doctor,  you  are  safe  with  me  and  you  ought  to  know 
that." 

"Well,  Mr.  Clayton,  then  I  will  tell  you  this  much.  I 
am  instructed  to  communicate  through  the  post-office  at 
Sacramento,  California,  whither  the  family  have  gone. 
They  left  some  weeks  since  with  a  large  train  of  emi- 
grants, and  I  think  will  abide  in  the  mountains  on  Ro- 
land's account." 

"Are  his  wounds  serious.  Doctor?" 

"Very,  very  serious;  and  he  will  never  recover,  in  my 
judgment.  The  ball  could  not  be  extracted,  and  is 
lodged  either  in  or  near  the  left  lung,  and  the  injury  is 


178  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

likely  to  involve  the  other  at  no  distant  day.  I  advised 
the  change  to  California  for  his  benefit." 

"  May  I  be  allowed  to  ask,  Doctor,"  said  Frank,  flush- 
ing, "what  are  their  circumstances  ?  " 

"They  have  enough  for  present  needs ;  and  with  the 
indomitable  courage,  energy,  and  resources  of  Isabel,  any 
family  would  be  assured  against  want.  Why,  sir,  she  is 
a  mine  of  wealth  in  herself ;  she  rises  equal  to  any  emer- 
gency, however  great." 

Dr.  Russell  then  gave  Clayton  an  account  of  the  raid 
upon  Mrs.  Priest's  cottage,  which  occurred  the  night  after 
Isabel's  departure  with  the  despatch.  The  picket  who 
shot  Roland  had  also  been  wounded,  and  a  party  of 
ruffians,  thirsting  for  revenge,  ordered  the  family  out  of 
the  house  ;  after  which  they  fired  the  cabin,  and  from  the 
stables  the  family  saw  their  home  reduced  to  ashes.  Dr. 
Russell  had  them  removed  to  his  own  house,  and  from 
there  they  had  started  on  their  long  journey  to  California. 

Isabel,  who  returned  so  full  of  hope  to  their  home  that 
winter  morning,  had  found  it  desolate  and  in  ruins;  but 
Dr.  Russell  had  a  messenger  watching  for  her  arrival, 
who  conducted  her  to  his  own  house,  where  the  little 
family  were  gathered. 

After  the  tears  and  excitement  of  the  first  meeting  were 
over,  Isabel  was  again  brave  and  strong;  so,  when  Roland 
was  convalescing,  by  the  doctor's  advice,  they  decided  to 
seek  a  new  home  in  California. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

We  invite  the  reader  to  turn  back  with  us  to  a  period 
just  prior  to  the  Kansas  difficulties,  and  enter  a  stately 
mansion  built  upon  the  border  of  one  of  the  small  lake.'- 
of  western  New  York,  in  a  thriving  manufacturing  town. 

Seated  in  the  library  is  a  woman  of  forty,  whose  cleai- 
cut  features,  dark  intelligent  eyes,  indicate  a  rare  com- 
bination of  refinement  and  good  sense.  A  son  and  daugh- 
ter, in  w^hom  the  mother's  features  seemed  reproduced  in 
a  higher  type  of  beauty,  were  seated  at  the  table,  and  all 
were  attired  in  mourning. 

At  the  opposite  side  of  the  library  table  sat  a  grave, 
determined-looking  man,  with  a  face  combining  great 
firmness  with  greater  kindness. 

"I  am  going,"  said  he,  "to  make  a  new  home  and  to 
lend  my  aid  in  making  Kansas  a  Free  State,  to  erect  a 
wall  of  adamant  to  the  north  and  westward  beyond  which 
slavery  shall  not  go ;  and  if  you  will  allow  Roland  to  go 
with  me,  I  promise  a  father's  protecting  care." 

And  so  it  was  arranged,  after  further  conversation,  that 
Roland  should  join  John  Brown's  party  of  emigrants  for 
the  territory  of  Kansas,  while  the  widowed  mother  and 
Isabel  should  remain  for  the  present  at  the  old  home. 

Roland  Priest  senior,  had  been  partner  in  a  large 
manufacturing  concern  in  western  New  York,  as  well  as 
director  in  a  railroad  company  in  which  he  had  invested. 
Of  this  large  corporation.  Colonel  Vandergrip  was  presi- 
dent and  was  known  far  and  wide  as  a  shrewd  business 
man,  immensely  wealthy,  and  almost  as  unscrupulous  as  he 
was  rich.  His  eldest  son,  Henry  VV.,  had  been  taken  into 
the  firm,  also  into  the  devious  paths  of  his  father  in  mak- 
ing money.  Colonel  Vandergrip  declared  that  if  Henry 
proved  an  adept  he  would  make  him  sole  heir  to  millions. 

The  son  did  not  disappoint  the  father,  for  he  inherited 
his  love  of  money ;  but  this  did  not  prevent  his  falling  a 
victim  to  the  charms  of  the  beautiful  and  accomplished 
Isabel  Priest. 


l8o  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

As  the  young  lady  did  not  reciprocate  his  feelings,  he 
pressed  his  suit  to  the  extent  of  appealing  to  her  father, 
who  declined  to  coerce  or  unduly  influence  his  daughter 
in  a  matter  so  delicate  ;  and  this  course  ofTended  both 
father  and  son. 

"They're  too  proud  of  their  learning  and  of  their  an- 
cestry," said  the  colonel  in  a  talk  with  his  son.  "  Poverty 
humbles  people  wonderfully,  and  I  will  give  the  Priests  a 
taste  of  that." 

In  the  course  of  a  few  months,  the  wages  of  the  oper- 
atives were  reduced  in  the  factories,  and  the  employes  of 
the  railroad  were  put  on  starvation  wages,  until  finally, 
there  was  a  general  strike.  The  corporation  held  out,  as 
did  the  laborers.  No  revenues  were  received  by  the 
stockholders,  and  the  shares  began  to  droop  in  the  mar- 
ket, lower  and  lower.  Then  certain  overdue  mortgages 
held  by  the  colonel  were  foreclosed,  and  thousands  of 
stockholders  were,  as  the  colonel  expressed  it,  "neatly 
frozen  out."  Among  those  who  had  fallen  under  the  blow, 
ruined  and  heart-broken,  was  Roland  Priest  the  elder, 
whose  funeral  had  just  preceded  the  opening  of  this 
chapter.  Colonel  Vandergrip  succeeded  in  all  his  plans 
for  amassing  wealth,  but  the  idol  he  worshipped  could  not 
save  him  from  the  keen  dart  of  death,  which  struck  sud- 
denly without  warning,  and  in  a  few  weeks  after  mourn- 
ing friends  had  followed  Roland  Priest  to  the  cemetery, 
there  was  another  grave  near  it,  and  before  long  a  tall 
marble  shaft  recorded  the  name  and  virtues  of  Colonel 
Vandergrip. 

Thus,  Henry  Vandergrip  the  son  and  heir,  found 
himself  the  head  and  chief  owner  of  one  of  the  largest 
fortunes  in  the  country.  Months  after  Roland  had  gone 
to  Kansas,  Isabel  received  a  call  from  the  rejected  lover, 
renewing  his  suit  foi'  her  hand,  and  offering  to  lay  mill- 
ions at  her  feet  in  her  own  right  and  name. 

Isabel  looked  proudly  at  her  suitor  as  she  replied  : 
"  My  father  went  to  his  grave  a  victim  of  your  father's 
greed  for  money.  Do  not  ask  me  to  share  this  ill-gotten 
wealth.  I  wish  none  of  it.  Your  victim  would  haunt  me 
by  night  and  pursue  me  by  day. 

"Are  you  aware,  Miss  Isabel,  that  I  o\\)i  the  roof  that 
protects  you  and  yours  ?  " 


THE   STORMV   petrel.  161 

"  I  did  not  know  it,  Mr.  Vandergrip,  or  I  would  not 
have  been  so  long  thus  protected.  I  would  far  rather 
have  the  open  air,  the  sheltering  arch  of  heaven,  above  me. 
At  this  time  to-morrow  you  shall  not  have  occasion  to 
reproach  me." 

"Take  time,  Miss  Isabel.  You  may  change  your 
mind.     I  am  in  no  hurry  for  your  answer." 

"You  have  my  answer,  sir;  and  I  bid  you  good-morn- 
ing," and  with  a  wave  of  the  hand  he  was  dismissed. 

On  the  following  da}-,  true  to  her  word,  Isabel  Priest 
and  her  mother  quitted  the  house  in  which  the  children 
were  born.  Hastily  disposing  of  their  household  good-^. 
they  took  the  western-bound  train,  and  three  week.-, 
later  were  domiciled  in  the  log  cabin  in  Kansas  wherein 
Roland  Priest  took  refuge,  fainting  from  the  wound  of  a 
border  ruffian's  bullet. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Frank  Clayton  felt  there  could  be  no  rest  for  him  till 
he  beheld  once  more  the  face  which  had  shone  by  the 
red  light  of  the  camp-fire  that  night  in  the  wintry  storm. 
It  haunted  him,  coming  between  him  and  everything  he 
attempted. 

About  the  last  of  May  he  started  with  a  party  of  emi- 
grants, in  canvas-covered  wagons,  drawn  by  horses  and 
mules.  Some  of  his  fellow-travellers  were  in  search  of 
California  gold,  others  of  adventure,  while  he  was  in 
quest  of  what  might  prove  an  ignis  faiiius,  but  which  none 
the  less  lured  him  irresistibly  and  steadily  on. 

The  first  few  days  were  without  special  adventures, 
when  there  came  one  which  was  indeed  crowded  with 
perils  and  excitement. 

One  morning  when  they  had  been  moving  for  ten  days 
westward,  Clayton  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  rapidly 
ahead  of  the  train  as  was  his  custom,  to  hunt  game,  which 
abounded  along  the  Republican  Fork,  up  the  course  of 
which  they  were  now  making  head. 

The  sun  was  shining  brightly  on  the  green  carpet  of  the 
plains  intervening  between  the  ridge  on  which  he  rode 
and  the  Republican  River,  some  five  miles  away,  though 
it  seemed  not  half  as  far.  Great  patches  of  wild  flowers 
here  and  there  seemed  like  bouquets  woven  cunningly  in 
the  texture  to  brighten  and  beautify  the  emerald  covering 
in  this  seeming  fairyland,  to  which  the  dark  line  of  tim- 
ber skirting  the  river  made  a  fitting  border. 

While  contemplating  this  beautiful  panorama,  ever)' 
moment  changing,  under  the  swaying  breeze  and  the 
shadows  of  fleecy  clouds  that  sailed  over  the  sun,  he 
heard  a  sharp  whistle  or  hiss,  like  escaping  steam  under 
great  pressure.  His  horse  wheeled  quickly  round,  and 
there  standing  but  a  hundred  yards  away  was  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  animals  he  had  ever  beheld.  A  large 
elk  with  full  antlers  had  come  up  out  of  the  valley  and, 
seeing  an  intruder,  had  given  this  signal   to  warn  him  off 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  1 83 

the  monarch's  domain.  His  head  erect,  his  muzzle  pro- 
truding, his  large  eyes  gazing  scornfully,  filled  with  wonder 
at  such  audacity,  his  form  the  very  embodiment  of  grace, 
his  chestnut  coat  of  velvet  with  the  sheen  of  satin  in  the 
morning  sun,  gave  him  the  pose  and  almost  the  semblance 
of  an  imperious  and  queenly  woman. 

Ever  and  anon,  one  of  the  front  feet  was  brought  down 
on  the  earth  with  lightning  rapidity  and  force  which,  with 
the  slight  movements  of  the  ears,  was  the  only  evidence 
of  life. 

The  horse,  his  rider,  and  elk,  stood  thus  for  a  few 
moments,  seemingly  lost  in  admiration,  each  of  the 
other. 

Finally,  Clayton  raised  his  ritle,  and  in  taking  aim  at 
the  beautiful  beast,  thought  what  a  pity  to  mar  such  a 
picture  and  to  betray  the  confidence  of  such  a  noble 
creature  !  Evidently  this  monarch  of  the  plains  was  only 
acquainted  with  the  Indians'  rude  bow  and  spear,  and  felt 
secure  in  being  out  of  range  of  either. 

Lowering  his  rifle,  Clayton  surveyed,  with  increasing 
delight,  the  beautiful  head  crowned  with  branching  antlers. 

"  Falcon,''  said  he,  patting  the  horse's  neck,  "  he  looks 
like  you  ; — the  same  color,  not  quite  so  large,  his  coat 
not  so  glossy,  eyes  much  the  same,  nostrils  red  and  wide, 
and  in  the  place  of  your  flowing  mane,  he  wears  the  horns 
■ — and  for  tliat,  we  will  bring  him  down." 

He  raised  his  rifle  the  second  time,  resolved  to  secure 
the  prize  dead  since  he  could  not  have  it  alive. 

The  elk,  as  if  at  last  scenting  danger,  made  one  great 
bound  and  cleared  the  ledge  upon  which  he  stood,  then 
disappeared  under  cover  of  the  bluft'  for  some  distance, 
and  emerged  in  the  plain  below,  accompanied  by  several 
others,  none  of  whom  had  antlers. 

Half-amused  and  half-chagrined,  Clayton  rode  on 
towards  the  west,  thinking  what  an  unsportsmanlike  event 
it  was.  "  Many  a  man  would  have  given  a  kingdom  for 
such  an  opportunity  and  I  have  let  it  slip,  purely  from 
love  of  the  beautiful." 

Thus  he  thought  as  his  agile  horse  bounded  over  the 
plain  below.  Before  reaching  the  wood  skirting  the 
river,  he  slackened  his  pace  and  listened.  He  heard 
a  low  rumbling  sound  which  he  detected  as  that  of 
a  herd  of    bufifalo  running.     He  had,  not   long   to  wait, 


1S4  THE    STORMY   PETREL. 

for  the  vast  plain  was  soon  covered  with  a  cloud 
of  dusky  forms,  crowded  together  in  masses,  push- 
ing and  being  pushed,  grunting  and  laboring  on  to- 
ward the  river,  pursued  by  a  party  of  Indians  who 
were  striving  to  run  the  herd  over  the  precipitous  bank 
of  the  river  further  down. 

Clayton  saw  he  was  directly  in  ihe  line  of  march  of 
these  frightened  beasts  and  knew  the  danger,  but  re- 
lied on  his  skill  and  the  fleetness  of  his  horse  to  carry 
him  through  any  emergency.  He  only  strove  to  get  as 
near  the  outskirts  of  the  herd  as  possible,  and  in  doing 
so,  espied  a  beautiful  cow,  dark  and  sleek  as  a  mole. 

Still  suffering  a  little  from  mortification  at  the  loss  of 
the  elk,  he  resolved  to  have  this  prize  in  revenge.  By 
degrees,  he  came  alongside,  raised  his  rifle  and  fired. 
The  cow  fell  dead  on  the  spot  and  Clayton  sought  to 
check  his  horse  and  get  out  of  the  rush  of  the  black, 
woolly  and  irresistible  torrent,  but  the  report  of  his  gun 
had  alarmed  them  more  than  the  Indians,  who  were  still 
crowding  them  from  the  other  side.  The  herd  seemed 
to  know  where  the  crossing  was,  and  the  danger  of  the 
precipitous  bank  below,  and  they  kept  their  course,  bear- 
ing Clayton  on  like  a  feather  in  the  torrent. 

On  reaching  the  low  shelving  bank  of  the  river,  the 
horse  and  its  rider  had  no  choice  but  to  plunge  in  and 
swim  across  with  the  wild  and  frightened  beasts.  In  the 
middle  of  the  stream,  he  nearly  lost  his  life  in  a  jam  of 
the  buffalos  who  were  borne  down  the  stream  with  eyes 
and  nostrils  red  and  distended,  the  body  submerged  and 
only  head  and  horns  above  the  muddy  eddying  tide. 

As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  there  was  but  a  strug- 
gling mass  of  black  heads  and  horns,  dotting  the  water 
thickl}',  while  upon  either  shore  the  great  black  hulks 
were  emerging,  or  plunging  in.  It  required  all  Clayton's 
presence  of  mind  and  energy  to  keep  above  the  water 
and  out  of  the  crowd. 

After  crossing  the  river,  he  found  himself  still  borne  on 
yet  by  skilful  movements  he  worked  his  way  to  the  outer 
edge  of  the  herd  and  at  the  end  of  another  hour's  ride 
was  freed  from  his  boisterous  companions.  He  turned 
his  horse's  head  to  retrace  his  steps,  both  feeling  and 
looking  the  worse  for  wear.  Still  he  was  determined  not 
to  lose  his  dead  buffalo. 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  185 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  after  recrossing  the  river, 
that  he  found  his  prize.  He  removed  the  hide,  cut  a 
nice  roast  from  the  hump,  strapped  them  on  behind 
his  saddle,  and  struck  out  to  overtake  the  train  b}'  bear- 
ing up  the  river  and  striking  the  road  some  miles 
ahead. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  he  reached  the  trail,  but  he 
pressed  onward  with  good  heart.  The  sun  had  set  in  a 
dark  bank  of  cloud  which,  borne  on  the  wings  of  the 
wind,  had  soon  overspread  the  heavens.  Lightning  flashed 
from  the  black  masses,  making  the  darkness  more  dis- 
mal, and  he  had  to  give  Falcon  the  rein  as  he  could  no 
longer  see  the  trail. 

Soon  there  arose  in  the  distance,  a  blood-curdling  cry 
above  the  low  rumbling  of  the  approaching  storm,  which 
caused  horse  and  rider  to  shudder  as  it  was  followed  in 
quick  succession  by  a  similar  cry  in  another  quarter,  only 
nearer  at  hand. 

"  Steady,  steady,  Falcon.  Those  are  only  wolves  that 
scent  our  beautiful  robe  and  fresh  meat.  We  can  out  run 
them,  old  boy.  You  hold  to  the  path,  and  I'll  hold  to 
the  rein  and  revolver,"  as  he  suited  the  action  to  the 
word.  A  few  seconds  elapsed  and  the  cry  was  repeated 
and  answered,  like  signals  from  two  attacking  armies. 
Again,  at  short  intervals,  was  this  fiendish  and  unearthly 
''Yi,  yi,  yi "  hissing  and  cutting  through  the  air,  and 
finally  bursting  in  one  grand  demoniacal  howling  chorus. 

Falcon  seemed  literally  to  fly,  w'hile  the  flashes  of 
lightning  revealed  the  way,  as  the  fiends  hung  threaten- 
ingly near  on  either  flank,  keeping  pace  with  what  they 
deemed  their  prey. 

Suddenly  the  gallant  steed  threw  himself  back  upon 
his  haunches  and  gave  a  loud  snort.  The  darkness 
shrouded  from  the  rider  what  the  cause  could  be,  and  he 
spoke  again  to  the  now  thoroughly  frightened  steed  : 

"  What's  the  matter,  old  boy  ?  " 

At  that  instant,  the  heavens  flashed  on  her  electric 
light,  and  lo  !  a  thousand  hungry  chops  armed  with 
ivory  spears,  surmounted  by  twice  as  many  phosphores- 
cent lamps,  looked  hungrily  toward  their  victim.  To 
make  the  peril  worse,  Clayton  observed  he  had  lost  the 
trail  in  trying  to  avoid  the  pack  that  had  finally  inter- 
cepted further  progress, 


l86  THE    STORMY   PETREL. 

He  levelled  his  revolver  and  fired  six  shots  in  quick  suc- 
cession as  the  lightning  aided  his  aim. 

At  several  shots,  there  was  a  sharp  cry  of  pain,  ending 
in  a  loud  wail  of  distress  as  the  wounded  beast  was  torn 
into  fragments  and  borne  away  by  his  hungry  compan- 
ions. 

Falcon  stood  back  upon  his  haunches  with  distended 
eyes  and  nostrils,  awaiting  results.  When  the  pack  gave 
way  in  the  scramble  for  the  blood  of  their  kin,  the  horse 
rallied  and  started  forward. 

Clayton  checked  him,  and  said  : 

"  No,  no,  old  fellow,  we'll  remain  here ;  they  have 
brought  us  to  bay  where  we  are  protected  upon  two 
sides  at  least  by  this  ledge  of  rock  and  the  steep  river 
bank." 

Clayton  feared  to  go  forward,  lest  he  lose  the  trail 
entirely  and  the  wolves,  he  knew,  would  soon  renew  the 
attack. 

Reloading  his  pistol,  he  dismounted  and  set  fire  to 
some  driftwood  from  the  river  at  the  foot  of  the  ledge  of 
rocks,  and  by  the  light  of  the  blaze,  the  eyes  of  his  ene- 
mies were  easily  sighted,  and  shot,  only  to  be  replaced  by 
others. 

As  he  suspected,  the  pack  soon  returned  and  kept  up 
the  siege  until  dawn,  with  an  occasional  charge  more 
desperate  than  before,  when  they  would  venture  closer, 
to  yell  and  snarl  louder  and  snap  their  teeth. 

At  each  of  these  attacks,  some  one  or  more  were  sent 
by  Clayton's  revolver  howling  away  to  the  rear,  borne 
not  in  the  arms  but  in  the  teeth  of  their  comrades. 

During  the  night  of  horror,  the  flickering  fire  and 
flashes  of  lightning  followed  by  deafening  thunder,  re- 
vealed the  besieging  force,  some  sitting  upon  their 
haunches,  some  prowling  round,  but  all  fearfully  near 
and  on  the  watch.  Falcon  stood  by  the  side  of  his  mas- 
ter, often  pawing  the  ground  fiercely,  and  snorting  defiance 
at  the  hungry  brutes  as  they  came  too  near. 

With  the  dawn  of  morning,  the  disappointed  pack 
slunk  away  to  their  dens,  and  Clayton,  mounting  his 
faithful  steed,  was  soon  riding  rapidly  on  the  trail,  to  be 
met  by  his  companions,  some  of  whom  had  started  back  to 
find  their  lo-^t  comrade,  and  listened  enviously  to  the 
story  cf  his  thrilling  adventures. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

At  Independence  Rock,  on  the  banks  of  the  Sweet 
Water  River,  the  train  went  into  camp  for  general  prep- 
arations before  departure  from  the  old  trail  via  Salt 
Lake  and  entering  the  new  one  with  General  Lander,  who 
commanded  the  expedition,  through  the  South  Pass,  at 
this  time  an  untried  path. 

General  Lander's  party  of  United  States  troops  and 
quite  a  number  of  civilians  had  joined  the  emigrant  train 
only  a  few  days  previously,  among  them  being  the  distin- 
guished artist  Albert  Bierstadt. 

It  was  high  noon  when  the  train  after  several  days' 
rest  moved  out  and  crossed  the  Sweet  Water  River,  a 
sparkling  mountain  stream  running  through  what  is 
called  the  "  Devil's  Gate,"  whose  scenery  combines  the 
awfully  grand  with  the  beautiful  and  picturesque. 

The  Sweet  Water  River,  ages  or  cycles  of  centuries 
ago,  followed  for  a  long  way  the  jagged  and  eccentric 
base  of  a  spur  of  the  Wind  River  Mountains  as  it  tapers 
to  the  plain  on  both  sides.  Here,  the  spirit  of  liberty 
must  have  welled  up  in  her  bosom,  and  she  made  a 
heroic  dash  against  the  narrow  line  of  granite,  cleaving 
two  perpendicular  walls  several  hundred  feet  in  height, 
and  when  she  debouched  into  the  valley  on  the  opposite 
side,  she  celebrated  the  victory  in  one  of  Nature's  most 
perfect  bowers,  arched  and  crowned  with  wild  roses  and 
all  manner  of  climbing  vines  and  flowers. 

Clayton  explored  this  spot,  riding  Falcon  over  broken 
stones  and  jagged  rocks,  along  the  banks  of  the  murmur- 
ing stream,  to  where  the  angry  waters  were  lashed  to 
fury  and  foam  by  huge  fallen  boulders.  But  the  Sweet 
Water  that  had  cleft  her  way  through  such  solid  granite, 
was  not  to  be  impeded  by  the  de'bris ;  and  with  a  bound, 
her  laughing  waters  descend  in  a  cascade  of  hundreds 
of  feet,  waving  in  madcap  style  her  white  feathery  mist 
and  spray  that,  like  the  white  plume  of  Henry  of  Navarre, 
is  the  signal  of  victory. 


l88  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

Reaching  the  impassable  barrier,  the  horse  who  had 
been  given  the  rein  as  he  entered  this  wonderful  fairy- 
land, now  stopped,  gazing  at  the  beautiful  spectacle  in 
wonder,  his  ears  moving  backward  and  forward  as  if 
trying  to  measure  the  distance  he  would  have  to  leap  to 
clear  the  noisy  cataract.  He  finally  lowered  his  head, 
sniffed  the  ground  and  began  to  paw  it  lusiily ;  then, 
raising  his  head  and  gazing  intently  at  the  threatening 
barriers  to  further  progress,  he  snorted  as  if  in  defiance, 
and  turning  his  head  to  look  at  his  master,  he  began  to  nib- 
ble at  the  grass,  as  though  to  say,  "  We  can  go  no  farther." 

Clayton  sat  upon  the  horse,  wrapped  in  wonder 
and  admiration.  As  Falcon  turned  and  retraced  his 
steps,  his  rider  looked  up  through  those  great  lips  of 
granite  that  seemed  about  to  close  and  shut  out  the  nar- 
row line  of  bright  light, — the  only  evidence  of  their  not 
being  swallowed  up  by  some  great  Ogre. 

Just  before  emerging  from  this  weird  cafion,  Clayton 
observed  a  large  birch-tree,  overhung  with  masses  of 
vines  and  wild  roses,  a  perfect  bower,  and  he  uncovered 
his  head  as  he  entered.  The  sunlight  glancing  through 
the  branches,  gave  glimpses  of  the  outer  world  with  its 
music  of  bird  and  bee,  and  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Thank  God  for  life  and  light  in  this  beautiful  world 
of  ours." 

Throwing  himself  upon  the  mossy  carpet,  he  allowed 
Falcon  to  nibble  at  the  grass  walls  of  his  bower  until 
his  daydream  more  than  an  hour  later  was  disturbed  by 
a  crash,  and  a  mass  of  birch  bark  with  clinging  vines 
came  down  near  his  head,  and  he  remounted  his 
horse,  then  emerged  from  this  enchanted  grotto  as  the 
rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  gilding  in  a  glory  of  light 
the  lofty  summit  of  Independence  Rock. 

From  the  drapery  of  vines,  he  ascended  a  green  knoll, 
when  suddenly  a  sharp  whistle  sounded  off  to  the  right. 
Turning  his  head  in  that  direction,  he  observed  Bierstadt 
the  artist  making  a  sketch  while  his  assistant  was  taking  a 
photographic  view  of  the  Devil's  Gate  which,  in  that 
glorious  sunset,  was  a  thing  of  beauty, 

Bierstadt  waved  his  hand  in  sign  that  he  was  to  stand 
still — and  Clayton  drew  rein  just  at  the  crest  of  the  hill, 
— Falcon  standing  with  curved  neck  and  proud  mien, 
tail  and  mane  waving  in  the  wind. 


THE    STOR-MV    PETREL.  189 

"There,"  said  Bierstadt,  holding  up  his  sketch,  after 
he  found  him  "you  make  quite  a  respectable  gatekeeper 
for  the  'Devil.' '' 

Clayton  knew  that  in  going  through  the  South  Pass,  he 
was  leaving  the  route  taken  by  Roland  Priest's  family 
and  that  he  should  next  touch  it  at  the  crossing  of  Snake 
River  beyond  old  Fort  Hall ;  but  there  was  no  remedy, 
as  he  could  not  go  alone,  and  to  wait  for  another  train 
was  uncertain  and  hazardous.  So  he  impatiently  trod 
the  new  and  untried  route,  which  in  itself  was  full  of 
interesting  adventure,  through  wild  mountain  scenery. 

Climbing  to  almost  unattainable  heights  to  plant  his 
feet  where  no  white  man  had  stood  before,  was  a  stimu- 
lant and  a  source  of  pleasurable  excitement  to  a  man  of 
his  temperament. 

On  a  hot  July  day,  he  stood  near  the  top  of  Fremont 
Peak.  Here,  with  the  eye  of  an  artist,  he  beheld  the 
panorama  of  cloud  and  snow-capped  mountains  and 
green  valleys  below  as  the  threatening  black  clouds  were 
tipped  with  gold  and  reflected  the  glory  of  the  sum- 
mer's sun,  giving  an  unearthly  beauty  and  grandeur  to 
the  magnificent  scene. 

He  uncovered  his  head  as  though  in  divine  presence, 
when  he  was  saluted  by  the  screaming  of  a  flock  of  ra- 
vens and  a  great  vulture  flapped  his  sable  wings  in  close 
proximity  to  his  head,  with  loud  croaking,  as  if  to  frighten 
the  intruder. 

Here  he  lingered,  despite  the  warnings  received  from 
the  dusky  winged  messengers  of  this  throne  of  snow  and 
the  lengthening  shadows  of  the  lofty  peaks,  feeling  the 
charm  which  every  lover  of  nature  realizes  when  alone  in 
the  great  and  awful  presence  of  the  Creator  and  His 
wonderful  works.  Here,  thought  he,  the  worst  infidel  or 
atheist  would  be  forced  to  acknowledge  the  existence  of 
a  God  with  powers  surpassing  the  grandest  conceptions 
of  the  wisest  and  greatest  of  His  creatures. 


CHAPTER     XXXIX. 

Leaving  Fort  Hall,  the  train  of  emigrants  moved  down 
to  Snake  River  Crossing,  at  which  point,  the  old  Salt 
Lake  trail  was  intersected,  and  where  a  portion  of  the 
train  diverged,  en  route  to  Oregon. 

Here,  Clayton  found  that  a  cut  which  Falcon  had  re- 
ceived in  his  foot  from  a  sharp  rock  upon  the  mountain 
road,  lamed  him  so  as  to  make  further  travel  impossible 
for  some  days  or  perhaps  weeks.  The  animal  received 
every  attention  from  his  master  with  human  intelligence 
and  more  than  human  appreciation.  After  several  days' 
tarry,  Clayton  resolved  to  push  forward  on  foot,  leaving 
the  horse  in  the  care  of  a  veterinary  surgeon  attached  to 
the  train  for  Oregon,  with  special  instructions  to  attend 
him  carefully,  and  that  he  be  sent  to  him  in  California 
when  recovered.  He  dreaded  the  separation  from  the 
noble  steed,  whose  good  qualities  were  legion  and  whose 
tieetness  almost  equalled  that  of  the  royal  swift-winged 
bird  for  whom  he  was  named. 

The  horse  neighed  in  a  coaxing  way  as  his  master  ap- 
proached, and,  lifting  his  lame  foot,  held  it  from  the 
ground  as  if  to  attract  attention. 

Clayton  stroked  his  mane,  unfastened  the  bandages 
about  his  foot,  rebound  them,  gave  the  usual  lumps  of 
sugar,  and  starting  to  go,  with  a  heavy  heart,  was  recalled 
by  a  neigh  in  a  kind  of  undertone  that  went  to  his  heart. 
Retracing  his  steps,  he  put  his  arms  about  the  horse's 
neck  as  he  said  : 

"Good-bye,  old  boy.  It's  hard  to  part  from  you  in 
distress.  Your  sore  foot  does  not  limp  worse  than  my 
heart  that  goes  halting  away,  God  bless  you.  Yes, 
Falcon,  I  see  no  reason  why  I  might  not  ask  His  bless- 
ing on  one  of  His  noblest  creatures." 

Harry  Burke,  the  companion  and  guide,  whom  Clayton 
had  employed  to  accompany  him,  was  impatiently  await- 
ing the  leave-taking,  and  the  two  men  slung  their  blank- 


THE    STORMY    PETREI,. 


191 


8ts,  buckled  on  their  revolvers — their  only  baggage — 
and  strode  away. 

Clayton  turned  and  waved  his  hand  to  Falcon,  who 
stood  looking  intently  as  though  he  were  trying  to  have 
a  last  glimpse  of  his  departing  master. 

After  some  days'  travel,  the  pedestrians  met  a  party  of 
miners,  who  warned  them  that  only  a  few  days  before,  an 
emigrant  train  had  been  surprised  at  a  point  called  Chim- 
ney or  Cathedral  Rock,  fifteen  miles  farther  on,  and  a 
number  of  men,  women  and  children  murdered  by  the 
Indians. 

With  an  anxious  heart,  Clayton  continued  his  journey, 
until  they  came  in  sight  of  this  one  of  Nature's  greatest 
curiosities. 

These  rocks  are  of  a  grayish  sand  formation,  and  rise 
above  the  surrounding  plain  from  one  to  three  hundred 
feet  in  height,  tapering  in  all  fantastic  circular  shapes 
from  a  base  of  thirty  to  one  hundred  feet  in  diameter, 
and  terminating  in  a  perfect  cone;  and  of  these  chimneys 
or  spires,  there  were  more  than  a  hundred  in  regular  ir- 
regularity, of  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  feet  apart.  Evi- 
dently, when  hoary  old  Time  was  a  mere  boy,  these 
cathedral  towers  were  part  and  parcel  of  a  spur  or  moun- 
tain of  sandstone,  and  Nature  had  been  at  work  with  her 
levelling  processes,  leaving  here  and  there  a  pile,  a  shaft, 
or  monument,  to  her  once  lofty  greatness.  And  through 
this  wonderful  group,  the  road  wound  its  serpentine 
course. 

A  few  ravens  were  perched  here  and  there  on  the 
high  pinnacles,  like  specks  of  crape  as  tokens  of  mourn- 
ing for  the  unfortunate  women  and  children  who  had  so 
recently  perished  near  by.  Just  as  they  were  emerging 
from  this  city  of  the  dead,  Clayton  observed  some  re- 
mains of  a  wagon  and  fragments  of  garments  near  the 
base  of  one  of  these  monuments,  and  he  turned  aside  to 
examine  them  with  a  heart  full  of  apprehension  lest  some 
chance  proof  should  reveal  the  identity  of  the  unfortu- 
nates with  the  object  of  his  great  love  and  long  search. 
Blood-stains  were  found  here  and  there  upon  stones  and 
bits  of  clothing,  revealing  nothing  beyond  the  heroic  but 
fruitless  struggle  of  the  victims  and  the  fiendish  brutal- 
ity of  the  savages.  A  woman's  slipper  and  a  long  tress 
of  dark  hair  were  among  the  debris,  and  Clayton  stood 


192  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

horror-stricken  at  the  picture  this  called  up  of  the  unfor- 
tunate travellers  and  their  possible  identity  with  those 
for  whom  he  was  searching. 

"  Come,"  said  Harry,  "  let  us  go  forward ;  for  I  see  far 
up  the  trail  what  seems  to  be  a  party  of  Indians  coming 
this  way. 

"Where.''  Let  me  see  them?"  anxiously  inquired 
Clayton,  putting  his  hand  on  his  revolver.  "  I  could  slay 
a  race  of  savages  for  such  an  outrage  as  has  been  perpe- 
trated here." 

The  approaching  party  of  six  or  seven  Indians  came 
leisurely  on  foot. 

"  It  is  madness  to  attack  them,"  exclaimed  Harry 
Burke,  "  and  we  cannot  retreat." 

"No,"  said  Clayton,  "we  must  go  forward  and  meet 
them  ; — put  on  a  bold  front  as  though  a  large  train  were 
at  hand." 

Acting  on  the  suggestion,  the  two  men  moved  on. 

Seeing  a  large  rabbit,  Clayton  drew  his  revolver  and 
shot  it ;  then  hastily  reloading,  he  picked  up  the  dead 
hare  and  walked  on  ; — both  men  with  revolver  in  hand. 

Soon,  the  Indians  came  up  and  saluted  them  : 

"  How,  how  ;  me  want  caps  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Clayton,  unmoved,  as  both  men  walked 
on.  "Go  back," — and  he  pointed  over  his  shoulder; 
"big  train;  heap  caps,"  and  the  two  men  turned  round, 
walking  backward,  on  their  way  talking  to  the  Indians 
about  the  approaching  train  that  was  more  than  a  dozen 
miles  away.  As  soon  as  they  were  out  of  sight  of  the  In- 
dians, Clayton  and  Burke  took  up  a  pace  that  put  many 
miles  between  them  and  the  savages  before  the  ruse  was 
discovered. 

After  ten  days  of  weary  marching,  they  reached  the 
banks  of  the  Humboldt  River,  down  which  their  course 
now  lay  to  where  it  sinks  from  human  sight,  and  the  great 
desert  begins.  The  waters  of  this  wonderful  river  were 
quite  brackish,  as  the  thirsty  travellers  found  on  reach- 
ing the  banks,  and  they  looked  longingly  for  a  spring  from 
which  to  drink. 

At  intervals  of  eight  or  ten  miles,  a  cool  rippling  stream 
found  its  way  into  the  sluggish  river  from  the  range  of 
mountains  that  hung  like  a  dark  curtain  eastward,  while 
in   the   west   was   an  endless  plain    of    sand   and    sage- 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  1^3 

brush,  reminding  one  that  this  vast  expanse  might  at 
one  time  have  been  the  bed  of  a  great  ocean,  with  its 
mountain  coast  toward  the  east.  Many  a  night  these  two 
men  pillowed  their  weary  heads  upon  a  mound  of  sand 
and  made  their  beds  of  the  same  accommodating  material, 
literally  covered  with  a  blanket  to  keep  off  the  myriads  of 
mosquitos  of  fabulous  size  that  infest  the  region,  pro- 
tected only  by  the  sagebrush,  the  darkness,  and  the  over- 
arching heavens.  They  durst  not  make  a  fire,  to  smoke 
and  keep  off  the  vermin  and  wolves,  lest  its  light  should 
direct  and  tempt  some  roving  savages  to  steal  upon  them 
and  commit  murder.  The  blankets  defied  the  mosquitos, 
and  the  Indians  were  left  to  take  chances  with  their  more 
wolfish  neighbors  in  finding  the  prey. 

At  a  point  near  the  sink  of  the  Humboldt,  where  its 
waters  were  thick  with  alkali,  at  noontide  when  the  sun's 
power  was  at  its  zenith,  Clayton  and  his  companion  were 
delighted  to  discover  a  sparkling  stream  that  ran  laugh- 
ingly across  the  road,  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the  Naseus 
River  near  by.  Foot-sore  and  weary,  Burke  threw  aside 
his  Indian  moccasins  and  waded  joyfully  into  the  stream, 
but  with  a  bound  and  yell,  rushed  out  on  the  other  side 
and  falling  upon  his  back  with  his  feet  aloft,  looking  like 
two  cooked  lobsters,  he  cried  lustily  for  help. 

"  Is  it  a  snake  bite  .?  "  asked  Clayton. 

"Snake  bite,"  exclaimed  his  suffering  companion,  "I 
am  scalded,  terribly." 

The  spring  was  of  volcanic  origin,  and  the  beautifully 
clear  waters  came  boiling  and  bubbling  up  from  subterra- 
nean fires  only  a  few  rods  from  the  trail. 

Clayton  remembered  the  practice  of  his  mother,  to 
apply  a  strong  solution  of  soda  to  a  burn  :  so  he  led,  or 
rather  half  carried  his  friend  to  the  brink  of  the  Hum- 
boldt River,  reeking  with  alkali,  where  the  unfortunate 
guide  plunged  his  feet  into  its  waters,  and  soon  the  lines 
of  pain  left  his  face.  In  twenty  minutes  the  skin  was 
restored  to  its  normal  condition,  and  the  two  pedestrians 
resumed  their  journey  an  hour  or  so  afterward.  At  ten 
o'clock  on  the  following  morning,  they  arrived  where  the 
great  river  sinks  out  of  sight,  and,  like  the  stream  of  life, 
ended,  swallowed  up  by  mother  earth,  leaving  a  whitened 
line — a  spectre  finger,  pointing  the  way  to  the  great  here- 
after that,  to   the  materialist,  lies    like  the  desert,  only 


ig4  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

dead  matter,  the  future  stretching  out. beyond  the  ken  of 
man. 

At  this  point  there  was  a  small  trading-station,  and  the 
old  man  who  kept  it,  advised  the  two  travellers  to  rest 
during  the  day  and  make  the  entrance  on  the  desert  in 
the  cool  of  the  evening,  and  thus  make  most  of  the  jour- 
ney by  night. 

The  old  pioneer's  advice  was  taken,  and  the  day  spent 
in  rest  and  preparation  for  the  march  over  the  desert. 
Clayton  inquired  of  the  men  for  information  concerning 
the  massacred  family  and  the  one  for  which  he  was  in 
search,  but  could  get  no  tidings. 

The  sun  set  in  a  kind  of  smoky  cloudless  sky  like  a  ball 
of  fire,  and  the  full  moon  rose  in  the  east,  equally  as  large 
and  only  a  little  less  lurid,  as  the  two  men  paid  the  host 
for  the  meagre  fare  and  set  out  on  their  desolate  jour- 
ney. 

The  road  in  the  desert  was  smooth  and  hard,  unlike  the 
dust  and  sand  encountered  up  to  this  point,  and  the  men 
walked  briskly  along,  unmindful  of  what  was  curtained 
from  them  in  front  by  night  and  distance.  Two  hours 
passed ;  conversation  flagged  and  whistling  took  its 
place,  but  the  notes  died  away  in  the  great  expanse  that 
was  spread  out  before  them  like  a  silver  carpet,  as  the 
alkali  sparkled  in  the  moonlight,  covering  everything  like 
frost.     After  a  long  silence,  Burke,  broke  out,  with  : 

"  I'll   be   d d,  Clayton,  if   I  don't  wish  I  could  hear 

an  owl  hoot; — one  of  those  regular  old  Indian  backwoods 
owls  that  can  just  everlastingly  make  the  welkin  ring.  It 
would  be  real  cheerful  music  in  this  great  grave-yard. 
Now,  let  us  stop  and  see  if  we  can  hear  anything."  And 
the  two  men  stood  silent  for  a  moment.  "  Oh,  confound  it, 
Clayton,  go  further  away;  that  old  watch  of  yours  makes 
as  much  noise  as  a  train  of  empty  freight  cars  on  a  down 
grade.  There,  that  will  do,"  added  Burke,  as  his  com- 
panion had  gone  forward  some  twenty  paces. 

After  a  short  silence,  the  profane  Hoosier  said  in  awe- 
inspiring  tones : 

"  My  heart  keeps  such  an  everlasting  thumping  and 
bumping,  I  can't  hear  anything  else.  Why,  I  hear  the 
blood  circulating  in  my  veins  like  mountain  streams.  My 
very  joints  creak  on  their  hinges,  and  the  sands  of  time 
rattle  into  the  past  like  clods  on  a  coffin.     What  in  thun- 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  195 

der  is  that,  Clayton  ? "  pointing  with  his  finger  to  an 
object  that  sparkled  in  the  moon's  rays  like  frost  on  a 
snow  bank.  "  As  I  am  a  sinner,  that  is  a  spectre  ship. 
See  its  great  white  sails,  bare  masts,  and  its  freight  of 
skeletons  with  eyes  that  give  a  phosphorescent  glare. 
Look  !  the  light  of  the  moon  shiners  through  her  hull,  and 
her  huge  ribs  form  great  shadows  on  the  molten  sea  of 
silver.  Hold,  Clayton  !  Don't  go  near  it,"  continued  the 
terror-stricken  man,  as  his  companion  walked  forward  to 
the  object  of  horror. 

"There,"  said  Clayton,  "come  here,  Burke,  and  man 
this  phantom  ship,"  and  he  kicked  over  with  his  foot  the 
bleached  bones  of  some  huge  ox  that  had  perished  and 
whose  skeleton  had  been  left  by  the  wayside  intact. 

On  through  the  silent  night,  the  weary  travellers 
plodded,  and  the  "spectre  ships"  grew  more  and  more  fre- 
quent and  the  broken  fragments  of  wagons  and  all  manner 
of  travelling  paraphernalia  literally  lined  the  road  side,- 
but  all  alike  shimmering"  with  the  frosted  alkali. 

Among  the  debris,  a  human  skull  was  seen,  its  silvery 
coat  making  it  more  ghastly. 

"  If  we  don't  leave  our  own  skeletons  here  to  bleach  in 
this  alkali,  we  shall  be  fortunate,"  remarked  Harry  Burke 
gloomily,  turning  from  the  skull  with  a  shudder. 

Pointing  to  the  thousands  of  wagon  tires  that  lined  the 
road  for  miles,  where  they  were  left  in  '49  and  '50  by  the 
gold-hunters,  Clayton  said  with  a  laugh  : 

"  This  looks  like  a  tired  world,  Burke,  and  if  you  are 
not  afraid  of  her  '  phantom  ships '  here,  seat  yourself 
upon  the  great  hub  and  let  the  weary  orb  roll  on." 

"  Clayton,  you  were  born  to  punish  mankind  and  you 
will  die  to  afflict  his  satanic  majesty,"  responded  Burke, 
seating  himself  upon  the  old  wagon  hub  beside  the  skel- 
eton of  a  great  ox.  After  resting  themselves,  the  men 
set  out  again  on  their  desolate  tramp,  as  the  evidence  of 
former  dissolution  grew  thicker  and  more  awful. 

It  was  early  on  an  August  morning,  1859,  when  the 
two  men  emerged  from  the  desert,  foot-sore,  thirsty, 
weary,  and  feeling  ten  years  older  than  when  they  began 
the  forty  mile  march  through  the  great  American  desert. 
They  seated  themselves  upon  the  porch  of  what  was 
called  an  "  hotel,"  but  looked  like  a  cross  between  an  ark 
and  an  "ambulance,  constructed  as  it  was  of  every  conceiv- 


196  THE   STORMY   PETREL, 

able  material  of  travelling  vehicle,  that  had  been  brought 
together  from  the  odds  and  ends  of  the  eartli.  Some 
vines  were  growing  over,  and  a  few  stunted  trees 
shadowed  it.  The  rippling  waters  of  a  stream  gave  a 
freshness  to  the  spot,  and  it  seemed  a  haven  of  rest,  an 
oasis  in  the  desert,  to  the  tired  and  wayworn  travellers 
after  the  journey  through  the  alkali  sands. 

Arriving  at  Sacramento,  California,  after  a  weary  march 
over  the  Sierra  Nevada  mountains,  Clayton  rested  from 
his  long  journey,  and  finally  learned  that  a  note  had  been 
received  by  the  postmaster  requesting  mail  matter  for 
the  Priest  family  to  be  forwarded  to  Coultersville,  a 
mining  camp  far  up  in  the  foot-hills  of  the  Sierras. 

To  this  point,  Clayton  betook  himself,  and,  in  response 
to  his  inquiries,  was  informed  that  no  letters  had  been 
received  or  inquired  for  by  any  one  named  Priest.  Feel- 
ing assured  that  Coultersville  was  the  place  for  him  to 
wait  and  watch,  there  he  remained. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

Isabel  Priest  sat  gazing  alternately  at  the  glorious 
panorama  before  her  and  at  her  sketch-book,  where  she 
was  striving  to  imprison  some  of  the  majestic  lines  which 
made  the  view  from  the  Giant's  Elbow  so  glorious. 

It  was  growing  rapidly  dark  from  an  approaching 
thunder-storm,  bringing  out  a  stronger  and  more  sombre 
beauty  in  the  scene.  She  longed  to  stay  and  finish  her 
sketch,  but  large  drops  of  rain  warned  her.  that  she  must 
return.  So,  gathering  her  drawing  materials  together, 
she  turned  toward  the  path,  and  was  startled  to  see  a  man 
obstructing  her  way  in  the  narrow  pass  between  two 
rocks.     She  saw    no   way  of  making  a  detour,   so  said : 

"Pardon  me,  sir;  I  shall  have  to  trouble  you  to  allow 
me  to  pass." 

He  turned.     It  was  Henry  Vandergrip. 

"  So  you  are  the  mountain  nymph  who  guards  this 
sylvan  spot .' " 

"Will  you  allow  me  to  pass,  sir.''  You  forget  that  we 
are  strangers — here  and  elsewhere." 

"  Oh,  now.  Miss  Belle,  don't  be  so  severe  on  a  poor 
fellow  who  has  come  so  far '' 

"  Why  did  you  come  ?  "  said  she,  turning  upon  him  eyes 
which  made  him  shrink  and  quail.  "  I  thought  I  had 
found  a  spot  where  I  should  be  in  peace  and  never  en- 
dure your  persecution  more." 

"Take  care,  my  fine  young  lady  !  "  he  answered,  with 
an  ugly  scowl.  "Take  care!  You  had  better  measure 
your  words  rather  more  carefully,  or  by  Heaven  !  I  will 
not  be  answerable  for  what  I  do."  And,  brave  though 
she  was,  the  girl  felt  her  heart  stand  still  as  she  saw  the 
demon  wdiich  had  come  to  the  surface  and  was  looking 
out  of  his  bloodshot  eyes. 

"  Please  allow  me  to  pass,  Mr.  Vandergrip,"  she  said, 
quietly.     "  Roland  is  waiting  for  me  just  below  there." 

She  knew  well  he  was  at  home,  poor  girl ;  but  the  end 
justified  the  means. 


198  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"No,  by  the  Eternal,  I  will  not  let  you  go!  And  this 
]ias  got  to  be  settled  here  and  now  forever.  I  have  been 
tormented  by  your  d — d  handsome  face  long  enough,  and 
I'm  not  going  to  stand  it  any  longer;  and  if  you  will  not 
be  my  wife,  why,  d — n  it,  I  don't  care  so  much  for  this 
infernal  existence,  and  I  shall  die  and  take  you  with  me. 
Do  you  hear  ? ''  And  before  she  could  evade  his  grasp, 
his  arms  held  her  in  his  desperate  embrace. 

Seeing  her  peril,  she  had  given  one  wild  cry  for  "Ro- 
land !  Help  !  "  A  moment  later  a  heavy  hand  fell  upon 
Vandergrip's  shoulder,  and  sent  him  reeling  twenty 
paces  away,  while  a  rough  voice  seemed  attempting  to 
modulate  its  tones  in  reassuring  the  terrified  girl ;  then 
the  rescuer  turned  to  the  slender  youth  who  was  picking 
himself  up,  and  brushing  off  the  leaves  and  dirt. 

"  Cur  !     Coward  !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  wrathful  contempt. 

"  How  dare  you  !  "  said  Vandergrip,  stung  by  the  in- 
sult in  Belle's  presence. 

'•  How  dare  I  ?  I  think,  young  man,  you  have  done 
enough  harm  in  this  world  for  a  fellow  of  your  size. 
Now,"  with  a  fierce  grip  on  his  shoulder,  "  down  on  your 
knees,  and  ask  the  forgiveness  of  this  lady,  or  by  all 
that's  sacred,  I'll  throw  you  over  the  cliff.  I  will,  by 
Heaven  ! " 

"  Release  me  first,  and  I  will  do  it,"  said  the  fellow, 
humbly. 

The  iron  muscles  relaxed,  and  Vandergrip  was  free. 
He  sprang  to  his  feet,  instead  of  kneeling,  gave  one 
bound  to  the  ledge  of  rock  above  them,  and  was  almost 
out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 

Like  a  lion  deprived  of  its  prey,  the  wrathful  giant  dis- 
appeared through  the  brushwood,  and  the  horror-stricken 
girl  saw  him,  in  another  instant,  emerge  with  the  cringing 
form  of  Vandergrip  held  high  over  his  head.  He  strode 
to  the  very  brink  of  the  awful  abyss,  then,  poising  him  in 
the  air,  he  hurled  him  straight  out  with  the  force  and  mo- 
mentum of  an  engine.  Like  an  arrow  shot  from  the  bow 
the  doomed  man  went  out,  out,  over  the  yawning  chasm 
until  the  propelling  force  waned,  then  down,  down,  to  the 
fathomless  bottom  of  rocks  below,  and  on  the  evening  air 
was  heard  a  wail  like  that  of  a  lost  spirit  as  he  disap- 
]3eared  through  the  branches  of  the  lofty  pines  beneath. 

The  young  girl  and  her  rescuer  stood  like  statues  on 


THE   STORIVIY    PETREL.  1 99 

the  cliff  above  as  they  heard  that  blood-curdhng  cr\-,  he 
with  arms  upraised  and  still  extended,  just  as  he  had  let 
go  the  form  of  Henry  Vandergrip,  every  muscle  drawn 
to  its  utmost  tension,  his  form  strained  to  its  greatest 
height.  He  then  stooped,  as  if  gathering  all  his  energies 
for  one  last  and  mighty  leap,  his  face  convulsed  with  des- 
perate resolve,  nostrils  distended,  eyes  wild  with  a  fixed 
stare,  as  though  already  peering  into  the  eternity  beyond. 

Isabel  divined  his  intention,  and,  with  her  nerves 
wrought  up  to  meet  the  awful  emergency,  seized  his  arm, 
saying  :  "  Stop  !  For  God's  sake,  do  not  leave  me  alone 
in  this  horrible  place  !  I  need  your  aid,  my  kind  friend. 
Do  not  be  cruel!''  She  kept  her  eyes  fixed  upon  his 
and  her  hand  upon  his  arm. 

After  a  few  moments  the  expanded  chest  relaxed,  with 
a  long  sigh  ;  the  arm,  the  muscles  of  which  had  retained 
their  iron  tension,  sank  gradually  to  his  side,  as  he  per- 
mitted himself  to  be  led  step  by  step  backwards  to  a  place 
of  safety. 

"  What  will  you  have  me  do  .''  "  said  the  man  hoarsely, 
his  herculean  chest  heaving  like  the  bosom  of  old  ocean 
even  after  the  storm  had  subsided.  ''  You  have  saved  me 
from  going  out  of  the  world  in  bad  company,  perhaps  to 
be  launched  into  eternity  at  the  rope's  end.  No  matter ; 
I  am  here.     Do  Avith  me  as  you  like." 

He  was  saved,  thank  God  !  Then,  the  tension  being 
removed,  all  the  horrible  scene  came  before  her,  and  she 
felt  the  world  growing  black  and  sense  benumbed.  For 
many  moments  Ben  was  trying  to  revive  the  unconscious 
girl  with  water  from  a  spring  near  them  ;  and,  at  last  the 
quivering  eyelids  showed  returning  life,  and,  pale  as  ashes, 
she  tried  to  stand  and  to  regain  control  of  her  sus- 
pended  powers. 

"  My  God,  this  is  horrible,  horrible  !  "  she  said,  shudder- 
ing as  she  looked  at  the  brow  of  the  cliff.  "  How  did  it 
all  happen  ?  How  did  he" — and  she  looked  shudderingly 
toward  the  fatal  spot — "  how  did  he  know  I  was  here  ? 
And  you — how  did  it  happen  that  you  came  ? " 

"  Miss  Isabel,  do  you  not  know  me  ?  I  am  Ben 
Hoadly.  I  laid  in  the  grave  my  father,  broken  like  your's 
in  body  and  mind  under  the  grinding  greed  of  ihe  Van- 
dergrips.  In  my  first  lonely  hours,  I  resolved  to  ^tV/ 
Henry   Vandergrip,    in    such     manner    as   would    be    a 


206  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

warning  to  others  engaged  as  he  and  his  father  had  been 
before  him.  Since  then  I  have  been  his  shadow.  Thank 
God,  I  was  here  to-day  to  save  you  from  a  brute  who 
richly  deserved  his  terrible  faie  !  " 

''You  must  go  away  from  here.  This  dreadful  tragedy 
will  become  known  and  suspicion  will  attach  to  you. 
Come  this  evening  to  our  cottage  at  '  The  Eagle's  Nesi.'  " 

Her  courage  returned  as  she  saw  this  man's  peril,  and 
she  was  strong  again. 

Ben  Hoadly  arose  and,  lifting  the  fringed  corner  of  a 
long  scarf  thai  hung  loosely  about  Isabel's  neck,  he  kissed 
it  reverently.  Then,  bowing  low,  he  said  :  "  I  obey," 
and  departed  under  the  edge  of  the  cliff  where  Clayton 
had  seen  him  disappear  in  the  morning. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

When  Henry  Vandergrip  was  struggling"  in  the  iron 
grasp  of  Ben  Hoadly,  a  party  of  miners  were  prospecting 
on  the  banks  of  the  Merced  River  with  pan,  pick,  and 
rocker,  when  there  suddenly  came  from  the  cliffs  above 
and  the  cloud-capped  peaks  of  the  Giant's  Elbow,  a 
shower  of  blood,  fragments  of  Hesh,  and  shreds  of  cloth- 
ing, spattering  through  the  lofty  pines,  filling  even  those 
rough  miners  with  horror. 

A  wailing  sound  had  preceded  the  horrible  shower, 
and  one  of  the  men  declared  that  the  day  of  judgment 
had  come  and  a  rain  of  fire  would  succeed  that  of  flesh 
and  blood. 

In  the  breast  pocket  of  the  coat  were  found  letters  ad- 
dressed : 

"  Henry  \V.  Vandergrip, 

Coultersville,  Cal." 

Inquiry  at  the  hotel  in  Coultersville  disclosed  the  name 
of  "  Henry  W.  Vandergrip,  New  York."  He  had  been 
stopping  there  several  days,  but  had  not  been  seen  for 
twenty-four  hours.  He  was  accustomed  to  ramble  in  the 
mountains,  the  clerk  said,  and  had  been  heard  to  speak 
of  the  beautiful  view  from  Giant's  Elbow. 

One  of  the  miners  had  seen  Mr.  Vandergrip  fre- 
quently, and  had  done  some  little  business  in  the  matter 
of  finding  for  him  the  residence  of  a  faimily  named  Priest, 
and  had  only  that  evening  seen  him  talking  and  walking 
near  the  extreme  point  of  the  Giant's  Elbow  with  the 
beautiful  young  lady  who  lives  at  "  The  Eagle's  Nest"  ;  and 
who,  he  believed,  was  Miss  Priest. 

An  informal  inquest  was  held  next  day.  Among  the 
witnesses  summoned  was  Miss  Priest,  who  was  the  last 
person  seen  with  the  deceased. 

When  the  facts  as  stated  had  been  proven,  "  Miss  Isa- 
bel Priest  will  now  be  sworn!"  said  the  pompous  little 


202  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

man' who  bad  been  chosen  to  conduct  the  examination 
because  he  had  a  Httle  smattering  of  the  law  and  was 
therefore  called  "Judge  "  at  the  camp. 

Frank  Clayton,  drawn  simply  by  curiosity,  had  entered 
the  crowded  improvised  court-room  just  as  the  above 
words  were  uttered.  Hearing  that  name,  so  sacred  to 
him,  spoken  there  in  such  a  place  and  amid  such  a  scene 
— good  God  !  What  did  it  mean  .''  His  heart  beat  so  vio- 
lently he  could  hear  nothing  but  its  pulsations.  In 
another  moment  he  had  realized  that  no  one  had  re- 
sponded to  the  strange  summons  ;  and  after  a  pause, 
which  seemed  to  him  an  age,  the  constable  said  : 

"  Miss  Priest  refuses  to  testify,  your  Honor." 

"  That  is  contempt  of  court,"  said  the  little  man  in  the 
seat  of  judgment ;  "  and  you  will  arrest  her,  Mr,  Officer, 
for  that  offense,  and  also  as  a  suspected  party  to  the  mur- 
der, as  she  was  the  last  person  seen  with  the  deceased." 

In  another  instant  Frank,  self-possessed  and  pale,  was 
on  his  feet. 

"  May  it  please  your  Honor,  I  would  like  to  speak  with 
this  lady." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  inquired  the  pompous  judge. 

"  My  name  is  Clayton,  an  attorney-at-law ;  and  I  wish 
to  advise  with  the  defendant." 

"  No  tricks  of  the  law  here,  Jedge  ?  "  shouted  two  or 
three  voices.  "  We  can  deal  out  justice  without  law  or 
lawyers." 

"  Silence  in  the  court !  "  again  vociferated  the  little 
man,  on  his  mettle  that  he  should  be  dictated  to  by  the  mob 
that  had  made  him.  "The  prisoner  is  entitled  to  a  fair 
trial  and  also  to  counsel.  Mr.  Officer,  bring  the  prisoner 
here,  or  conduct  the  gentleman  to  the  prisoner." 

Was  it  possible  he  was  about  to  see  her  ?  How  he  had 
looked  forward  to  and  longed  for  that  moment !  And  why 
was  she  here  ?  These  were  the  questions  that  sped  like 
lightning  flashes  through  Frank's  mind,  as  he  followed  the 
officer  to  a  remote  corner  of  the  room  ;  and  soon,  he  found 
himself  standing  before  a  lady  dressed  in  black  and 
thickly  veiled. 

Was  it  his  imagination,  or  did  the  hand  he  took  in  his 
own  tremble  as  she  said,  very  simply  : 

"  I  have  heard  my  brother  speak  of  you  often,  Mr.  Clay- 
ton." 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  203 

With  what  a  thrill  of  delight  Clayton  recognized  the 
voice  which  had  been  ringing  in  his  ear  every  step  of  the 
way  across  the  continent,  luring  him  on  with  its  strange 
sweetness ! 

But  she  was  in  peril ;  she  needed  his  help  ;  that  thought 
was  uppermost  now. 

"  Miss  Priest,  will  you  entrust  yourself  to  me  in  this 
matter?  I  presume  there  is  some  mistake — some  misap- 
prehension here.  You  will  have  to  give  me  some  idea  of 
the  position  you  wish  to  take." 

She  spoke  very  calmly  as  she  answered  :  "I  am  not 
guilt}^,  Mr.  Clayton ;  I  know  the  man  who  threw  Henry 
Vandergrip  over  the  precipice,  but  I  would  suffer  for  the 
deed  myself  rather  than  reveal  his  name.  The  rest  I 
leave  to  you." 

With  what  a  jealous  pang  he  heard  this  avowal !  She 
seemed  slipping  away  from  him  just  as  he  believed  he  had 
found  her.  But,  setting  aside  every  thought  in  his  deter- 
mination to  screen  her  from  this  horrible  charge,  he 
approached  the  judge,  saying  : 

"  May  it  please  the  Court,  we  recognize  the  fact,  that 
though  this  trial  is  wholly  without  form  of  law,  yet  there 
is  great  necessity  for  prompt  and  speedy  justice.  That 
we  shall  have  patient  hearing  and  a  verdict  in  accord- 
ance with  the  facts  and  the  evidence  we  see  plainly  in  the 
countenances  of  the  twelve  honest  men  to  whom,  though 
convened  as  a  coroner's  jury,  we  most  willingly  submit 
our  case  and  the  evidence  that  has  been  adduced." 

"  That's  fair  and  a  square  hand  ;  no  bluff  or  call  for  a 
new  deal  in  that,  pard  !  "   shouted  one  of  the  crowd. 

"Silence  in  court!"  again  called  the  judge.  "No  in- 
terrupting the  gentleman  when  he  is  speaking." 

"Your  Honor,  and  you,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  will 
please  remember  that  one  of  the  witnesses  testified  to  see- 
ing the  accused  talking  with  Mr.  Vandergrip  only  a  little 
while  before  the  time  when  the  miners  were  overwhelmed 
with  the  shower  of  human  fragments,  and  upon  that 
slender  thread  hangs  this  horrible  charge. 

"If  the  court  please,  the  witnesses  who  have  examined 
the  edge  of  the  cliff  from  whence  the  deed  was  committed, 
testify  to  foot-prints,  and  evidences  of  a  fearful  struggle ; 
but,  in  what  manner,  I  would  ask,  could  the  accused  at- 
tack or  struggle  upon  the  brink  of  that    fearful  precipice 


204  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

with  a  powerful  man  in  full  health,  as  the  deceased  was  in 
life  ? 

"  Again,  one  or  more  of  the  miners  who  have  examined 
the  spot  from  above  and  below,  testify  that  he  must  have 
been  propelled  by  a  power  almost  superhuman,  before  he 
began  that  fearful  descent.  No  one  of  you,  gentlemen  of 
the  jury,  can  have  any  idea  that  this  feeble  girl  could  have 
accomplished  this  horrible  deed  in  the  manner  shown." 

"That's  so,  that's  so,"  shouted  a  voice  in  the  crowd. 
"  She  never  done  it." 

"  Order  in  court.  We  can't  proceed  without  order," 
vociferated  the  judge. 

"  May  it  please  your  Honor,"  continued  Clayton,  "  and 
you,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  there  must  have  been  some 
mysterious  force  to  have  accomplished  this  terrible  result, 
entirely  independent  of,  and  beyond  the  power  of  the  ac- 
cused. And  let  me  beg  of  you,  one  and  all,  not  to  con- 
strue the  silence  of  this  timid  girl  into  an  admission  of 
guilt,  for  there  is  none  of  you  here  who  is  without  sisters, 
mother,  or  some  one  dear  to  you,  at  your  homes  toward 
the  rising  sun,  and  does  not  the  remembrance  of  them  ex- 
cite your  pity  and  enlist  j'our  sympathies  for  the  orphan 
girl,  thrown  by  rough  fortune  here  among  you  brave  men 
on  the  western  wilds  of  the  Sierras  ?  The  only  woman 
among  you  here,  is  it  strange  that  she  should  tremble  and 
be  voiceless .'' 

"  Determined,  brave  men,  clamoring  for  justice,  would 
not  knowingly  injure  the  innocent,  and  especially  an  un- 
protected woman." 

"  We  will  protect  her.  It  would  be  a  sorry  day  for  any 
chap  in  this  here  ranch,  what  'd  tech  a  har  of  her  head," 
said  the  leader  of  the  band  of  miners,  who  had  brought 
I  he  remains  of  Henry  Vandergrip  in  the  rocker,  and 
now  sat  listening  to  the  lawyer's  statement. 

"  That's  so,  that's  so,"  joined  in  the  crowd, 

"And  now,  may  it  please  your  Honor,  and  you,  gen- 
tlemen of  the  jury,"  continued  the  advocate  with  deep 
emotion,  "into  your  hands  I  commit  the  cause  of  this  in- 
nocent girl,  and  ask  you  to  do  by  her  as  you  would  have 
other  brave  men  do  by  your  daughters,  wives  or  sweet- 
hearts, under  like  circumstances,  feeling  assured  that  you 
will  permit  no  harm  or  injustice  to  come  near  her  sa- 
cred person," 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  ^O^ 

"  We'll  see  to  that,  stranger,  you  can  bet  your  bottom 
dollar  on  that  hand,"  said  an  old  miner,  who  found  a 
hundred  echoes — "That's  so,  that's  so." 

The  Court  shouted  "  Silence !  "  and  called  on  the 
officer  to  enforce  order. 

Clayton  returned  to  his  client  amid  an  ovation  of 
hearty  hand-shakes  from  the  rough  but  honest  miners, 
and  the  defendant  gave  him  cordial  thanks  for  the  dexter- 
ous manner  in  which  he  had  won  over  the  crowd. 

After  order  had  been  restored,  the  judge  asked  if  "  Col- 
onel Simms  "  was  in  court,  as  he  desired  the  prosecution 
properly  conducted. 

Colonel  Simms  responded,  and  took  his  place  before  the 
jury.  He  opened  by  saying  that  he  was  loth  to  be  placed 
in  so  ungallant  a  position  as  to  prosecute  a  lady. 

"Then,  yer'd  better  not,"  exclaimed  an  old  miner,  who 
had  been  silent  up  to  this  time. 

"  That's  so ;  yer  better  pass  out  on  that  hand,  Colonel," 
echoed  another  voice. 

"But,"  continued  the  colonel,  not  noticing  the  remarks 
of  the  crowd,  "  I  am  called  upon  on  behalf  of  the  court 
and  the  people  whom  it  represents,  to  see  that  the  guilty 
shall  not  go  unpunished. 

"The  eloquent  gentleman  who  has  just  taken  his  seat, 
was  very  shrewd  in  covering  up  one  of  the  gravest 
charges  against  his  client :  that  of  contempt  of  court, 
under  the  cloak  of  timidity  on  the  part  of  the  then  wit- 
ness, now  prisoner  at  the  bar. 

"  It  is  fair  to  presume  the  witness  refuses  to  testify,  lest 
she  may  criminate  herself  as  a  party  to  this  atrocious 
murder. 

"  Of  course,  all  the  circumstances  point  to  an  accomplice, 
and  we  are  not  called  upon  to  show  the  motive  or  object 
that  the  fair  prisoner  had  in  committing  or  abetting  the 
murder.'" 

"  That's  false  as  hell ! "  thundered  a  voice  from 
the  crowd  and  Ben  Hoadly,  seemingly  with  one  great 
stride,  brought  his  giant  form  beside  the  speaker,  hatless, 
with  tattered  garments,  dishevelled  hair,  and  eyes  ablaze 
with  indignation. 

One  heavy  hand  he  laid  upon  the  shoulder  of  Colonel 
Simms  with  the  iron  grasp  of  a  Hercules,  while  with  the 
other  clenched  fist,  he  literally  split  into  fragments   the 


.2d6  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

pine  table  the  colonel  had  been  pounding,  as  he  repeated 
his  assertion  : 

"It's  false  as  hell!  and  if  the  base  insinuation  is  re- 
peated, I'll  tear  that  sacrilegious  tongue  out  by  the  roots." 

Isabel  Priest  grasped  the  arm  of  Clayton  at  the  sound 
of  Ben  Hoadly's  voice,  saying  : 

"Oh,  there  he  is!  Quick,  Mr.  Clayton,  don't  let  him 
speak  !  "  But  Ben  Hoadly  brushed  Clayton  and  all  else 
aside. 

"  I  am  responsible  " — and  then  he  stopped,  as  Isabel 
Priest,  who  had  eluded  Clayton  and  struggled  through  the 
crowd,  reached  his  side,  saying  in  anguish : 

"Hush,  Ben  Hoadly!     Do,  for  my  sake,  be  silent!" 

"  No,  Miss  Belle  ;  for  your  sake  I  have  spoken  ;  and  I 
have  already  gone  too  far  to  retrace.  Let  me  now  tell 
the  whole  story  and  abide  the  consequences." 

"That's  so.  Miss;  let  him  make  a  clean  breast 
of  it  now,"  exclaimed  the  old  miner  at  the  post  of  chief 
mourner.  "You  needn't  fear  for  yourself;  no,  nor  for 
him  nuther,"  he  added,  soothingly  ;  "  he's  a  brave  one  an' 
is  gwinter  tell  ther  truth." 

"Let  the  giant  tell  the  story ;  let  him  talk!"  said  the 
crowd. 

"Yes,"  remarked  Colonel  Simms  ;  "  but  first  let  go  my 
shoulder,"  which  had  been  held  firmly  during  the  inter- 
ruption. 

Without  seeming  to  notice  anything  further  than  to  re- 
lax his  hold  on  the  silenced  and  frightened  colonel,  Ben 
Hoadly  gazed  at  the  retreating  form  of  Isabel  Priest  as 
she  was  led  to  her  seat  by  Frank  Clayton;  then,  drawing 
himself  up  to  his  full  height,  nearly  seven  feet,  he  con- 
tinued the  incomplete  sentence. 

"  I  am  responsible  for  the  death  of  that  man  and  I 
stand  here  to  answer  to  the  honorable  court  and  this 
jury,  as  well  as  to  my  God,  for  this  deed  ;  and  I  ask  your 
patience  while  I  relate  the  moving  cause  of  this  act  upon 
which  it  is  your  duty  to  pass  sentence,  acquittal  or  con- 
demnation ;  and,  whatever  it  shall  be,  I  promise  to  abide 
by  it,  without  murmur," 

"  That's  fair." 

"  Nuthin  sneakin  'bout  that." 

"  Go  ahead,  stranger.  He's  a  big  one,  ain't  he  ? " 
shouted  the  crowd. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  207 

"Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  my  liome  was  in  the  western 
part  of  York  Slate,  and  my  father  and  I  were  in  the 
employ  of  the  firm  of  Vandergrip  &  Priest,  wealthy  manu- 
facturers. The  senior  partner  was  father  of  that — -dead 
man. 

"There  was  a  deliberate  plan  to  break  down  and  ruin 
financially,  the  junior  member  of  the  concern,  Mr.  Priest, 
because  his  daughter,  there,"  (pointing  to  Isabel)  "refusetl 
the  hand  of  \oung  Vandergrip.  In  order  to  accomplisii 
this  unworthy  object,  there  was  a  reduction  of  wages  to 
starvation  prices,  followed  by  a  strike  of  the  workmen  in 
self-defence  ;  closing  of  the  mills,  followed  by  months  of 
idleness  and  distress. 

"  Broken  in  fortune  and  in  health,  Mr.  Priest  died,  leav- 
ing a  desolate  family. 

"  In  this  wreck  perished  also  my  own  father,  mother  and 
sister.  This  young  lady  was  still  persecuted  by  Vander- 
grip and,  as  all  their  property  had  passed  into  his  hands, 
her  family  left  for  the  Territory  of  Kansas  and  subsequently 
made  California  their  home.  Here  they  were  tracked  by 
young  Vandergrip  ;  and,  my  own  family  being  ruined  and 
dead,  I  followed  him.  I  did  not  know  why,  but  God  per- 
haps sent  me  to  protect  that  young  girl."  Then,  turning 
to  the  rough  miners,  he  continued  in  a  lower  voice : 
"  You  all  have  mothers,  some  of  you  sisters  in  the 
States,  whose  memory  is  dear  to  you  ;  and  I  take  it  every 
man  here  would  do  as  I  did  to  save  from  such  a  ruffian  a 
frail  girl,  helpless,  and  struggling  for  life.  Yes,  you 
would  have  killed  him,  as  I  did." 

"  That's  so,  that's  so,  pardner  !  stake  yer  bottom  dust  on 
that,  old  fel !  "  shouted  the  crowd,  as  the  Court  commanded 
silence  again  and  again. 

"  This  is  true  to  you,  men  who  are  strangers  to  her  and 
her  cause  ;  but  for  my  part,  who  know  her  well,  and  all 
that  she  has  suffered  from  him,  the  man  who  lays  violent 
hands  on  her,  or  wags  his  tongue  in  disparagement  of  her 
good  name,  I'd  pulverize  him  if  he  were  the  last  man  on 
earth,  and  the  Creator  had  forgotten  how  to  make  any 
more." 

"  Served  him  right !  Served  him  right  !  "  shouted  the 
miners  ;  and  the  Court  let  them  have  their  say. 

"  My  own  family  are  gone — starved,  murdered — and 
by  that  man.     And  then  for  him  to  look  roughly  or  to 


2o8  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

lay  violent  hands  on  her  !  Do  you  wonder  I  killed 
him!" 

"  No,  no  !"  shouted  the  crowd. 

'•No,  I  know  you  don't;  and  you  wouldn't  have  had 
nie  slop  short  of  a  hundred  lives,  if  he  had  possessed  so 
many.  And  now,  good  friends,  I  thank  you  for  your  at- 
tention, and  I  leave  my  case  in  your  hands."  Then, 
sinking  in  a  seat,  he  bowed  his  head. 

The  noisy  demonstration  of  the  miners  had  ceased,  and 
a  deeper  feeling  of  sympathy  had  sway,  as  this  large- 
hearted  and  unfortunate  man,  with  great  emotion,  told 
the  simple  story  of  his  life. 

Frank  Clayton  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence  when 
Ben  Hoadly  had  taken  his  seat. 

"  May  it  please  the  Court,  and  you,  gentlemen  of  the 
jury,  this  is  a  novel  but  necessary  proceeding  in  these 
troublous  times,  when  the  slow  processes  of  the  law  work 
injustice  to  the  innocent  and  ofttimes  allow  the  guilty  to 
escape  just  punishment.  Here  we  have  a  court  and  jury 
organized  by  a  people  accustomed  to  self-government,  for 
the  purpose  of  an  inquest.  Then,  trying  the  accused 
and  seemingly  guilty  party,  you  are  now  to  pass  judgment 
on  the  self-confessed  and  real  perpetrator  of  the  deed, — 
the  same  court,  the  same  jury,  the  same  witnesses,  and 
with  the  same  audience.  And  allow  me  lo  say  just  here 
that  if  the  people  could  always  manifest  on  such  occasions 
the  moderation  and  patient  spirit  of  justice  we  have  had 
here  displayed,  much  of  the  tedious  circumlocution  of  law 
could  be  done  away  with.  I  stand  here  to  say,  in  behalf 
of  the  young  lady,  my  client,  that  you,  gentlemen  of  the 
jury,  must,  according  to  the  established  rules  of  evidence 
and  justice,  acquit  her  of  any  part  in  the  killing  of  the 
deceased,  Henry  Vandergrip,  and  recognize  in  the  person 
here  before  you  the  real  actor  in  the  tragedy.  But  how 
far  he  is  criminally  responsible  for  his  act,  you  must  de- 
termine. By  his  permission,  I  wish  to  call  to  your  atten- 
tion some  of  the  leading  features  of  this  case  and  the 
causes  leading  to  this  dreadful  deed.  His  temperament, 
mental  and  physical  organization,  you  have  seen,  and  can 
judge  something  of,  and  also  of  the  effect  on  such  a  na- 
ture of  the  treatment  he  and  his  family  received  at  the 
hands  of  the  deceased.  Let  the  court  and  this  intelligent 
jury  place  themselves  in  his  circumstances,  then  go  deep 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  20g 

down  in  the  recesses  of  the  heart,  the  sacred  closet  where 
you  commune  with  your  God,  and  there  put  the  question 
in  the  presence  of  your  Maker :  What  would  I  have  done 
to  the  author  of  all  my  distress  under  like  circumstances  ? 
Ben  Hoadly  appeared  on  the  cliff  at  the  Giant's  Elbow 
just  in  time  to  rescue  this  lady  from  the  hands  of  a 
ruffian.  It  was  the  same  mailed  hand  which  had  op- 
pressed, even  unto  death,  those  who  were  nearest  and 
dearest  to  him.  Can  you  blame  him,  that,  in  a  moment 
of  desperation,  he  hurled  the  body  of  the  miscreant  into 
the  gulf  below?"  (Cries  of  "No!  No!  Served  him 
right!  ")  And  now,  gentlemen  of  the  jurj^  I  commit  into 
your  keeping  the  future  welfare  of  our  unfortunate  brother ; 
and,  with  your  higher  natures  fully  aroused,  may  God 
give  you  courage  to  'do  unto  others  as  ye  would  they 
should  do  unto  you.'  " 

Clayton  resumed  his  seat  amid  thunders  of  applause. 
Isabel  Priest  rose  on  his  approach,  and  placed  both  her 
hands  in  his  own,  and  diamond  drops  of  gratitude  stood 
in  her  dark  eyes. 

Ben  Hoadly  still  sat  bent  over,  with  his  face  hidden  in 
his  hands. 

When  the  silence  had  become  so  protracted  as  to  seem 
awkward,  one  of  the  jurors  rose  and  said  : 

"  I  vote.  Not  Guilty." 

"And  I,"  "And  I,"  responded  the  twelve. 

"  I  chip  in  a  half-ounce  of  dust  to  buy  the  big  un  a 
coat  and  hat  and  ter  kinder  care  for  him  till  he  can  git  a 
stake,"  one  old  miner  rose  and  said. 

"  I  raise  yer  one,"  exclaimed  another. 

"That's  the  size  of  my  pile,"  said  a  third;  and  one 
after  another  of  the  crowd  came  forward,  and  the  jury 
and  the  judge  joined  in  the  general  contribution  to  Ben 
Hoadly. 

When  the  contributions  had  ceased,  "the  big  un  "  was 
carried  away  in  the  hearts  and  sympathies  of  the  miners, 
and,  literally  in  a  triumphal  procession,  he  left  the  court- 
room to  sup  with  the  admiring  crowd  at  the  miners'  camp. 

As  Isabel  Priest  left  the  building,  the  rough  crowd 
opened  respectfully,  every  head  uncovered  as  she  passed. 
And  she  acknowledged  the  rough  homage  with  gratitude. 


CHAPTER  XLTI. 

For  the  second  time  this  fair  girl  acted  as  a  guide  to 
Frank  Clayton,  as  she  led  him  through  the  mountain  paths 
towards  her  home  at  "  Eagle's  Nest." 

Was  it  the  ozone  of  the  air  that  made  him  feel  he  had 
quaffed  a  new  elixir  of  life,  as  he  walked  by  her  side  ? 
The  veil  was  withdrawn,  and  he  could  gaze  now  into  that 
pure,  beautiful  face;  pale  from  the  dreadful  agitations  of 
the  recent  scenes,  it  looked  to  him  like  an  angel's.  He 
could  have  walked  on  forever;  but  they  were  soon  at  their 
destination  ;  and,  amid  tears  and  etnbraces,  the  wonderful 
experience  was  related.  Roland,  wan  and  emaciated,  lay 
upon  the  lounge,  which  he  seldom  quitted  now,  close 
clasping  his  sister's  hand,  as  she  recited  the  strange  events  ; 
she  gently  stroking  his  hair,  and  pausing  when  he  seemed 
too  much  moved.  Clayton's  opportune  arrival  seemed  to 
them  all  little  short  of  a  miracle  ;  and  Mrs.  Priest  embraced 
him  as  if  he  were  another  son,  saying  : 

"  How  can  I  ever  repay  you  .■*  God  only  knows  what 
might  have  happened  but  for  your  providential  arrival  !  " 

"  And  to  think,  Isabel,  of  your  going  alone  to  meet  such 
a  monstrous  charge  !  "  and  Roland  shuddered  with  horror. 
"Only  to  think,  Mr.  Clayton,  of  her  keeping  this  awful 
secret  from  us  and  bearing  it  alone  !  Isn't  she  a  heroine  !  " 
and  he  looked  with  admiration  at  the  brave  girl.  "  By 
Heaven,"  he  added,  flushing,  "  I  would  have  gotten  u]) 
from  this  couch  and  gone  mvself  had  I  known  it,  if  it  had 
killed  me !  " 

"Yes,  my  darling,"  said  she,  kissing  him  fondly,  "I 
know  that,  and  that  is  just  the  reason  why  I  kept  my  secret 
so  well.  And  now,"  she  added,  with  a  look  of  resolution 
and  authority,  "  now  listen  :  not  one  word  more,  from  any 
one,  upon  this  horrible  subject ;  we  will  bury  it  out  of  sight 
forever."  And,  kissing  Roland  once  more,  she  arose,  say- 
ing, "  Come,  Mr.  Clayton,  and  I  will  show  you  the  garden 
and  my  beautiful  flowers  and  vines." 

Need  it  be  said  that  Frank  found  them  beautiful  indeed  ! 


THE    STORMY    PETREL. 


And  the  dainty  cottage,  with  its  simple  decorations,  its 
magnificent  views,  seemed  to  him  nearer  like  Paradise 
than  anything  his  eye  had  ever  beheld. 

Day  after  day  found  him  there,  after  a  climb  up  the 
steep  mountain  side,  walking  and  riding  with  Isabel,  devis- 
ing new  ways  for  Roland  to  enjoy  the  outer  air.  The 
poor  boy  drank  eagerly  the  fresh  life  and  magnetism  which 
Clayton's  strong,  invigorating  presence  brought  him,  and 
clung  to  him  as  a  new  hold  upon  life. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

The  Summer  had  passed  and  tlie  A<itumnal  foliage  was 
at  the  height  of  its  glory  at  "  Eagle's  Nest,"  when  news 
came  of  John  Brown's  attempt  and  capture  at  Harper's 
Ferry. 

It  was  the  first  moment  of  pain  Frank  had  experienced 
ill  that  life  of  enchantment.  He  was  deeply  moved  and 
shocked.  He  had  talked  with  Isabel  of  her  old  friend's 
\isionary  and  dangerous  schemes,  and  had  imparted  to  her 
their  divergence  of  views  over  his  wild  enterprise.  Now 
his  fears  were  confirmed— and  what  would  they  hear  next  ? 

The  post  of  that  day  answered  this  conjecture  by  the 
following  letter  from  John  Brow^n  himself  to  Clayton : 

"  Harper's  Ferry  Nov.  20,  1859. 
"  My  Dear  Friend  : 

"  You  were  partly  right — I  have  failed  in  my  at- 
tempt. But  an  over-ruling  God  is  working  this  out  in 
His  own  way.  There  will  be  a  colossal  conflict  be- 
tween the  North  and  the  South,  and  freedom  to  the 
slaves  will  be  the  result,  though  not  the  object. 

"  '  The  sunset  of  life  lends  a  mystical  lore, 
And  coming  events  cast  their  shadow  before.' 

"  My  sun  is  setting,  and  I  see  the  breaking  of  another 
and  a  brighter  dawn. 

"Yes,  the  slaves  have  not  as  yet  sufficient  intelligence 
to  know  tliat '  he  who  would  be  free,  /i/msc/f  must  strike  the 
blow !  '  They  will  not  respond  to  the  opportunity  I  gave 
them.  But  I  have  no  repinings,  no  reproaches.  I 
have  often  felt  that,  as  there  was  no  remission  of  sins 
without  the  shedding  of  blood,  so  there  could  be  no  com- 
plete freedom  to  the  Southern  slave  without  the  crimson 
seal — little  thinking  that  it  would  be  my  own  life's  current 
that  should  first,  and  at  least,  in  part,  fulfil  the  awful  rev- 
elation. 


213  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"  Yes,  my  friend,  God  has  not  forsaken  me  in  this  hour 
of  trial,  but  leads  me  safely  above  the  thorns  that  hedge 
about  the  closing  hours  of  life.  Were  I  ruler  of  tlie  earih, 
I  would  not  change  in  one  jot  or  tittle  my  situation,  i  am 
decreed  to  die  on  the  gallows  on  the  second  of  Decembei , 
and  I  pray  the  day  shall  be  as  bright  and  joyous  as  m\- 
spirit  on  that  occasion.  You  may  think  of  me  as  going 
forth  to  meet  my  fate  with  a  fortitude  that  is  no  stranger 
to  your  own  heart. 

"  May  God,  the  Fatiier  of  us  all,  watch  over,  protect  aiul 
care  for  you  and  for  the  dear  friends  whom  I  commie  to 
your  charge,  tlirougli  all  the  clianges  of  an  earthly  life. 

"And  now  I  bid  you  adieu  here  below,  to  extend  in  the 
future  a  Heavenly  welcome  above. 

"  Believe  me,  more  than  ever, 

"  Your  devoted  friend, 

"John  Brown." 

There  was  weeping  and  bitter  lamentation  at  the  cot- 
tage on  the  mountain  side  when  Frank,  with  broken  voice, 
read  this  letter  aloud. 

Isabel  was  too  much  moved  to  remain  in  the  room,  and, 
after  an  hour  of  solitude,  returned  calm  but  with  traces 
of  deep  suffering  on  her  face. 

Roland  was  lying  on  the  sofa,  his  eyes  wearily  closed, 
as  if  he  wished  never  to  open  them  again  upon  a  world 
which  could  be  so  cruel.  Isabel  looked  at  his  wan  face 
anxiously  for  a  moment,  then  went  up  to  him  with  an  in- 
expressible brightness  in  her  face. 

"  Come,  my  darling ;  we  must  go  outside,  where  the 
air  is  so  fresh  and  sweet.  We  are  all  going  to  take  our 
tea  out  there  under  the  great  oak.  No,  JMamma  dear, 
don't  go;  Jenny  knows  about  it  and  is  laying  the  table 
there  now."  She  busied  herself  gathering  the  shawls  and 
cushions  as  she  spoke. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Clayton,  your  arm,  please,  for  Rolla  !  " 

Oh,  what  brightness  she  infused  !  How  her  clear  vi- 
brating voice  dispelled  the  gloom !  How  her  strong  pres- 
ence filled  them  all  with  gladness!  And  how  beautiful 
she  was  as  she  poured  the  tea  under  the  glancing  shadows 
of  the  oak  leaves  ! 

Clayton  looked  at  her  spellbound.  How  dear  she  was 
growing  to  him  !     And  now  this  common  grief  seemed   to 


214  THE   STORMY   PETREL, 

bring  them  nearer  than  ever  before.  They  sat  long  and 
gazed  at  the  marvelous  sunset  and  its  wonderful  after- 
glories  ;  the  landscape  below  hazy  and  indefinite,  and  the 
sky  a  mass  of  molten  splendor. 

Isabel  had  looked  in  silence  for  a  few  moments,  then 
said  as  if  to  herself,  "  It  hath  not  entered  into  the  heart 
of  man  to  conceive  of  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared 
for  those  who  love  him."  Then,  looking  at  them  all, 
"Think  of  the  glories  that  await  our  dear,  kind  friend  !  " 

"  How  I  envy  you  your  beautiful  faith  !  "  Clayton  said, 
wistfully. 

She  turned  her  eyes  full  upon  him,  with  an  expression 
of  surprise  :  "  Envy  me  ?  Why,  do  you  not  believe  a  glo- 
rious future  awaits  him  ?  " 

He  felt  the  reproof  of  those  clear  eyes,  and  said,  quite 
humbly,  "  I'm  sure,  I  hope  you  are  right  and  I  am  wrong. 
God  knows  I  hope  it  is  as  3'ou  suppose  ;  but  for  myself  I 
can  only  say,  I  do  not  know.  It  is  all  a  mystery;  life 
and  death  are  mysteries  to  me,  and  one  can  only  hope 
for  that  which  he  can,  at  least,  in  part  believe." 

No  one  spoke.  Isabel  very  gravely  began  to  make 
preparations  for  their  return  to  the  house,  as  she  thought 
deep,  unutterable  things  in  pity  for  a  doubting  heart. 

"Come,  Rolla,  dear,"  she  said  gently.  "It  grows  a 
little  cool." 

The  light  had  faded  out  of  the  sky,  and  a  cool  shadow- 
had  crept  into  two  hearts  as  Clayton  helped  the  invalid 
indoors,  touching  the  cold  hands  of  Isabel  and  indefinably 
chilled  by  her  manner  and  the  atmosphere  about  her. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

All  through  the  ensuing  week  Isabel  fought  bravel}- 
with  the  gloom  which  oppressed  every  heart  in  that  circle. 
For  the  sake  of  Rolla,  there  must  be  nothing  but  sun- 
shine. When  the  dreaded  second  of  December  came, 
not  one  word  did  anyone  utter  upon  the  subject  upper- 
most in  each  heart. 

The  following  letter  was  received  by  Clayton  a  few 
weeks  later.     It  was  from  Claude  Duvall, 

"Harper's  Ferrv,  Dec.  2,  1859,  Midnight. 
"  My  dear  Friend  : 

"  How  shall  I  tell  you  what  I  have  come  to  see  this 
day  !     I  will  try,  for  there  can  be  no  sleep  this  night. 

"When  I  heard  there  was  no  hope  of  pardon  for  our 
poor  old  friend,  you  may  think  I  lost  no  time  to  come 
from  St.  Louis,  all  the  time  thinking,  in  the  cars,  if  there 
was  perhaps  some  way  I  can  help  him  to  escape.  But, 
my  God  !  when  I  get  here  this  morning  and  see  all  the 
crowds  on  the  streets — the  whole  town  like  one  of  our 
fetes  at  home — and  soldiers,  soldiers  everywhere — then  I 
know  how  such  thoughts  are  vain  ;  and  I  only  think  to 
see  him,  to  speak  with  him  once  more.  But  when  I  ask 
at  the  jail,  that  hope,  too,  seems  vain.  Still,  I  wait ;  and 
as  a  guard  goes  on,  I  slip  a  gold  piece  in  his  hand,  and 
pass  in,  and  behold  our  old  friend.  Oh,  if  you  could  see 
the  light  in  his  eyes  when  he  came  to  see  me  ! 

"'  You  here?  Is  Clayton  with  you?'  \nd  he  looked 
so  eagerly  behind  me.  I  only  shake  my  head  for  answer. 
I  could  not  speak  ;  I  was  weeping,  my  friend. 

"  Then  he  says  :  '  Tell  him  he  knew  better  than  I;  but 
tell  him  I  have  no  regrets — I  see  a  glorious ' 

"  Then  another  guard  roughly  pushed  me  outside  tlie 
door,  and  1  heard  no  more. 

"  I  go  out  in  the  street,  and  wait  to  see  what  may  come. 
Such  crowds  !  People,  people ;  in  windows,  on  tops  of 
houses;  and  soldiers  here  and  everywhere  ! 


2l6  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"  At  last,  there  is  a  roll  of  drums,  and  I  see  an  escort  of 
cavalry,  like  for  a  king  to  be  crowned,  with  plumes  all 
dancing  and  shining  in  the  sunlight.  On  they  come, 
nearer,  nearer  ;  and  then,  oh,  Mon  Dicu  I — there,  in  a  car, 
drawn  by  two  white  horses — there  he  is — sitting  on  his 
coffin — yes,  my  friend,  my  eyes  have  seen  that  cruel  sight 
— sitti?ig  on  his  coffin!  But  with  such  a  majesty,  like  it 
was  a  throne  !  his  white  hair  shining  like  a  crown  in  the 
sunlight. 

"  I  keep  close  as  I  may  by  the  car,  and  try  to  make  him 
see  me,  but  cannot  tell  if  he  does.  The  drums  always 
beat,  so  he  cannot  hear.  At  last,  when  the  car  stops  at 
that  dreadful  spot,  I  feel  ill,  and  cannot  look;  1  think  of 
Savonarola,  of  Bruno,  of  Christ,  of  all  who  have  come  to 
die  for  their  glorious  idea  !  And  I  hear  always  still  those 
drums,  those  dreadful  drums ;  so  I  know  that  voice  will 
not  be  heard  more. 

"  At  last — oh,  Mo)!  Dieu  .'  how  long  it  seems  !  when  the 
drums  no  more  beat ;  in  all  that  thousands  there  is  not 
one  sound  !  Then  I  know  the  awful  moment  is  arrive  ; 
that  a  great  soul  is  going  out  to  meet  its  God  !  and,  I  can 
only — pray. 

"  What  would  I  do  now,  if  like  you,  my  friend,  I  cannot 
pray  ? 

"  I  know  not  then  what  I  do  for  hours.  I  go — it  matters 
not  where.  Crowds  everywhere,  so  gay ;  buying  fruit, 
and  eating  something  in  great  baskets.  I  can  only  think 
of  that  line  by  your  English  poet : 

"  '  Butchered  to  make  a  Roman  holiday  ! ' 

"  And  all  day  and  all  this  night  that  is  in  my  mind,  and 
I  am  saying  : 

"  '  Butchered  to  make  a  Roman  holiday  ! ' 

"  I  know  well  your  eyes  will  weep  on  this  page  when  you 
read  it,  as  do  mine  who  write  it. 

"  For  this  once  I  must  subscribe  me,  not  Claude,  but,  in 
very  truth,  as  in  deep  dejection, 

"  Claudius.  " 

Many  times  did  Frank  peruse  this  sad  letter  before  he 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  2l7 

detennined  to  show  it  to  Isabel,  who  was  terribly  moved 
by  the  details  of  the  scene  ;  and  together  they  decided 
not  to  read  it,  at  least  for  the  present,  to  her  mother  nor 
to  Roland,  who  was  now  making  such  visible  progress 
toward  health  they  feared  to  put  one  sorrowful  thought  in 
his  ardent  and  sympathetic  heart. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

More  and  more  closely  were  the  threads  of  their 
lives  becoming  entwined  by  these  mutual  confidences. 
Isabel  believed  she  was  grateful  for  his  kindness  to  her- 
self, and,  still  more,  for  his  marvellous  effect  upon  Rolla ; 
for  the  boy's  recovery  had  certainly  dated  from  the  mo- 
ment of  Frank's  arrival.  So  she  treated  him  with  a  frank 
cordiality,  never  for  a  moment  concealing  the  great  pleas- 
ure it  was  to  have  him  among  them. 

Vanity  was  a  stranger  to  her  heart ;  hence  she  thought 
it  quite  natural  that  his  stay  was  prolonged  by  "invest- 
ments which  made  his  presence  necessary  on  the  Pacific 
Coast."  And  so  the  weeks  and  months  sped  on,  binding 
secretly  two  hearts  more  and  more  closely. 

With  infinite  delicacy,  Frank  had  refrained  from  any 
allusion  to  their  experience  on  the  prairie  and  the  night 
by  the  camp-fire. 

"  Does  he  know  ? "  she  would  sometimes  ask  her- 
self ;  and  a  crimson  flush  would  sweep  over  her  at  the 
thought. 

They  were  walking  alone  one  day,  whew  he  said,  rather 
irrelevantly  : 

"  Do  you  know,  I  think  of  all  Shakespeare's  heroines, 
Rosalind  has  for  me  the  greatest  charm." 

Swift  as  lightning,  her  thought  divined  his  own;  and 
she  sent  back  the  color  which  was  mounting  to  her  cheek, 
saying  coldly  : 

"  1  cannot  agree  with  you ;  I  think  nothing  but 
a  matter  of  life  and  death  could  excuse  a  woman  for  as- 
suming   masculine    dress." 

Then,  quickly  changing  the  subject,  each  knew  that 
the  other  had  understood;  and  Frank  felt  that  he  had 
been  ordered  by  this  determined  young  goddess  not  to 
venture  again  on   that  dangerous  ground. 

The  doctor  ordered  atrip,  a  change  for  Roland;  so 
preparations  were  made  to  visit  the  Yosemite.  Mr. 
Bayard  Taylor,  whom  Clayton  had  recently  met,  promised 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  219 

to  join  their  patty  ;  and  a  few  days  later  found  them  in 
that  region  of  marvellous  beauty  and  sublimity. 

When  that  first  morning  dawned  in  the  "  Yosemite 
Valley,"  the  mist  and  spray  of  the  many  waterfalls  ris- 
ing like  incense  to  greet  the  sunlight,  it  seemed  the 
opening  of  a  festal  day  to  our  travellers.  The  mountain 
breeze  came  in  the  tent  doors  ladened  with  fragrance  and 
the  melody  of  forest  birds,  accompanied  by  a  deep  mon- 
otone as  of  the  rushing  of  mighty  waters. 

While  breakfast  was  preparing,  an  excursion  was  made 
to  the  nearest  and  most  beautiful  waterfall,  the  Bridal 
A^'eil.  It  hung  in  vapory  folds  from  the  rocks  above  in 
an  arch  of  exquisite  beauty  ;  the  filmy  lace  now  and  then 
lifted  or  turned  back  by  the  wind  or  some  unknown 
power,  disclosing  a  broad  ledge  of  rocks  ;  and  back  of  it, 
a  cavern  of  unknown  depth.  To  a  mountain  climber  and 
an  adventurous  spirit,  the  temptation  was  irresistible  to 
step  behind  the  veil  that  was  raised.  Just  as  the  party 
was  leaving  the  spot,  Isabel  Piiest,  yielding  to  a  sud- 
den impulse,  darted  forward,  and  in  an  instant,  was  lost 
to  view  behind  the  veil. 

Bayard  Taylor  and  Clayton  watched  for  a  rift  in  the 
waters  to  follow.  It  came  in  a  few  minutes,  which  seemed 
an  age,  and  Clayton  sprang  into  the  opening  to  join  the 
young  girl.  The  capricious  waters  seemed  disposed  to 
punish  the  daring  mortals  who  invaded  their  domain. 
For  several  long  minutes,  the  cascade  was  an  unbroken 
sheet;  then  it  was  again  put  aside  a  shower  of  diamonds 
and  pearls  falling  upon  the  water  nymph.  As  she  emerged 
with  her  companion  from  their  crystal  prison,  there  was 
a  brighter  radiance  in  her  face.  Perhaps  she  had  won- 
dered who  would  follow  her  if  she  disappeared  in  that 
realm  of  mystery,  and  now,  she  was  glad  that  the  question 
was  answered. 

Roland,  who  had  come  to  meet  the  party,  scolded  his 
sister  for  her  temerity,  but  Isabel  had  often  visited 
Niagara,  which  was  near  their  early  home,  and  had  gone 
with  others  behind  the  sheet  of  water — one  of  the  feats 
daily  performed  there,  which  is  almost  sublime  from  its 
foolhardiness.  Instead  of  the  green  wall  of  liquid  emer- 
ald of  Niagara,  this  Bridal  Veil  was  like  foam  and  mist 
when  it  reached  the  rocks  below  and  it  seemed  an  easy 
matter  to  step  behind  it. 


2  20  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"  Such  an  enchanLed  place  to  play  '  hide  and  go  seek,' " 
said  Isabel  with  a  bright  laugh. 

But  she  was  silent  and  penitent  too,  perhaps,  for  she 
took  her  brother's  arm  and  walked  back  to  the  encamp- 
ment, where  breakfast  was  waiting  for  the  party. 

Appetite  was  not  wanting  after  such  a  morning  excur- 
sion. Fresh  brook  trout,  coffee,  mountain  quail  and 
Yosemite  grapes  were  part  of  the  bill  of  fare,  with  the 
"feast  of  reason  and  flow  of  soul  "  that  inspired  the  table 
talk  of  Bayard  Taylor  and  his  companions. 

At  the  foot  of  the  falls,  were  discovered  several  round 
smooth  stones  like  billiard  balls.  Some  thought  they 
were  Indian  implements  for  a  game,  or  that  they  belonged 
to  the  "  Stone  Age."  On  ascending  the  top  of  the  cliff, 
they  found  the  roaring  waters  of  the  river  took  a  step,  as 
it  were,  on  the  granite  table  before  making  the  dizzy  leap; 
and  at  this  spot,  numerous  perfect  holes  were  formed,  re- 
sembling insize  and  shape  the  interior  of  a  druggist's 
mortar.  So  much  symmetry  indicated  design  and  skill 
in  the  construction. 

After  further  search,  one  of  these  holes  was  discovered 
without  water,  and  in  it  a  perfectly  round  ball  similar  to 
those  below. 

'^Eureka!''  exclaimed  Mr.  Taylor,  holding  it  aloft,  and 
then  explained  : 

"A  small  pocket  or  irregularity  catches  a  pebble,  the 
surging  waters  keep  it  revolving,  wearing  the  pocket 
larger  and  the  pebble  smaller,  but  both  rounder,  for 
inonths  and  years,  till,  by  some  freak  of  the  current, 
a  sudden  lurch,  and  out  of  the  pocket  it  is  thrown,  carried 
over  the  falls,  and  deposited  where  the  traveller  and 
scientist  may  speculate  upon  its  origin." 

Above  the  falls,  they  came  to  what  they  called  the 
"Spouting  Cave," — a  deep  cleft  in  the  rocks  in  which 
was  a  rapid  current  of  water  that,  without  any  apparent 
cause,  would  occasionally  stop  in  its  onward  course,  and 
roll  back  for  a  time,  when  a  hugh  volume  of  water  and 
spray  would  rise  in  the  air,  followed  by  a  puff  of  wind  like 
the  breath  of  some  great  monster  with  cavernous  lungs, 
then,  the  pent  up  waters  overcame  all  resistance,  and, 
with  a  noise  of  thunder  and  gurgling  sound,  the  con- 
duit was  filled  and  the  stream  flowed  on  its  downward 
course. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  221 

All  stood  gazing  in  wonder  at  this  phenomenon  of 
nature. 

"  It  may  be,  "  said  Mr.  Taylor,  "that  this  fissure  con- 
nects with  the  grotto  under  the  falls,  and  has  something 
to  do  with  the  lifting  of  the  veil,  for  which  I  can  see  no 
sufficient  explanation  down  there  in  the  currents  of  air 
getting  behind  it,  as  we  were  speculating  this  morning, 
Mr.  Clayton." 

All  the  secluded  haunts  of  nature  in  this  wonderful 
valley  were  explored  by  the  travellers,  and  the  purity  of 
the  atmosphere  seemed  like  a  draught  of  inspiration  to 
the  health  and  spirits  of  the  party.  Upon  no  one  was  its 
effect  more  apparent  than  Roland  Priest.  His  vigorous 
youth  was  asserting  itself  with  a  rapidity  which  filled  Isa- 
bel and  Frank  with  happiness  and  astonishment.  He 
found  no  end  of  amusement  in  drawing  out  the  guide 
upon  scientific  and  other  subjects. 

"Look!"  exclaimed  Clayton,  pointing  to  the  crystal 
stream.  "  Do  you  observe  the  fairies  have  paved  the 
bed  of  the  river  with  gold  ? "  And,  as  a  large  brook 
trout  swam  leisurely  by,  he  said,  "  See,  they  have 
decked  even  the  fish  with  the  same  precious  and  shining 
metal  !  " 

"  They  call  that  '  fool's  gold, '  "  said  Mr.  Taylor. 

Roland  saw  his  opportunity ;  so,  turning  to  the  guide, 
he  said  : 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it.  Bob  ?  " 

"Wall,  stranger,  "  said  Bob  :  "you  see,  when  the  gold 
fever  struck  the  States,  nigh  every  kind  o'  stories  was  told 
of  the  big  strikes  and  finds  in  the  mines ;  so  a  party  of 
prospectors  started  out  from  'Frisco  with  all  these  big 
notions,  each  feller  tryin  ter  git  ahead  and  ketch  the  golden 
worm.  One  day  one  of  them  came  to  a  creek  not  fur  from 
Mariposa,  where  this  truck  was  a  layin  thick  on  the  bot- 
tom, jis  like  tis  here,  only  with  ther  sun  shining  on  it 
the  stuff  looked  twice  as  bright  and  big  as  'twas  in  natur. 
Then,  his  eyes  commenced  to  grow  bigger  an  bigger  tryin' 
ter  take  all  in,  an  he  got  kinder  excited,  and  throwed  off, 
his  close  an  jumped  inter  the  creek  with  a  shovel;  an  when 
t'others  kum  up,  there  he  was  a  ravin  idiot,  tryin  ter  scoop 
it  up  an  throw  it  out  on  the  bank  an  tellin  all  on  em  to 
Stan  back,  this  was  his  claim  as  he  had  discivered  it. 
Since  then,  old  ones  calls  it  'fool's  gold,'" 


22  2  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"  Where  does  it  come  from  ? "  asked  Mr,  Taylor. 

"Wall,  sir,  there's  several  ways  'countin'  for  it,  an'  I'll 
give  yer  the  one  what  suits  my  idees  best,  an'  that  is  its 
miky  (  mica  )  from  the  rocks  which  -gets  heated  in  moun- 
tain fires  in  the  dry  season,  an'  when  the  rainy  season 
comes  on,  the  rocks  kinder  slack  like  lime,  and  the  miky 
turns  gold  color  an'  floats  away  in  the  creeks  to  fool  peo- 
ple and  turn  their  heads." 

"That  is  good  reasoning,"  said  Mr.  Taylor,  a  sly 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  as  it  caught  Roland's. 

What  a  happy,  joyous  time  it  was  !  And  with  what  de- 
light was  it  all  recounted  to  the  dear  mother  awaiting 
them  at  "  Eagle's  Nest  "  !  And  how  they  enjoyed  her  hap- 
piness in  her  boy's  returning  health  and  bouyancy  !  And 
how  enchanting  it  was  to  hear  that  there  was  not  enough 
food  in  all  Coultersville  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  his  ap- 
petite ! 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

It  was  now  the  second  Summer  of  Clayton's  sojourn 
near  his  friends.  Letters  from  the  East  brought  good 
news  from  the  Colony,  Petrel  was  happy  with  the  good 
Sisters.  So  it  needed  only  to  make  peace  with  his  con- 
sceince  by  making  business  which  should  detain  him, 
which  he  did  by  investing  quite  largely.  Then,  too,  he 
found  the  quiet  of  the  mountain  side  favorable  for  literary 
pursuits,  to  which  he  was  addicted.  So  his  conscience 
was  appeased. 

Isabel  was  a  superb  horsewoman,  and  as  she  rode  Tem- 
pest, with  Frank  at  her  side  upon  Falcon,  who  had  now 
been  returned  safe  and  sound  from  Oregon,  there  was 
abundant  time  for  confidences ;  and  there  were  few  sub- 
jects they  had  not  discussed  in  this  way  al fresco. 

"Your  riding  is  characteristic,"  he  said  to  her  one 
day. 

"  How  is  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  are  so  supple,  and  yet  so  immovable  ;  your 
touch  is  so  tender,  yet  so  firm." 

"There,  that'll  do,"  said  she,  waving  her  whip  with  an 
air  of  authority.  "  Now,  sir,  we'll  talk  about  yourself^  if 
you  please.  Tell  me  some  more  about  Uncle  Ned  and 
your  pony  and  Aunt  Eliza  and  Uncle  Stanley  and  Petrel. 
Why,  do  you  know,  those  people  are  all  as  real  to  me  as  if 
I  had  seen  them.  I  can  see  your  pretty  cousin,  too,  with 
her  deep  blue  eyes." 

"  They  are  not  blue,  if  you  please." 

"Oh,  yes  ;  gre}',  I  mean,"  and  she  laughed. "  Well,  why 
didn't  you  marry  her  yourself,  sir,  and  save  her  from  that 
dreadful  Mr.  Fletcher?     Of  course  vou  fell  in  love  with 
her." 

"  Never,"  said  Frank,  emphatically,  "  Kate  and  I 
were  like  brother  and  sister." 

"  Why,  I  thought  boys  always  fell  in  love  with  their 
cousins,"  said  she,  laughing.  "  I  had  always  supposed 
that  was  part  of  the  discipline  of  life." 


224  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

"  Well,  it  was  not  a  part  of  the  discipline  of  mine,"  an- 
swered Frank,  "  We  were  too  good  friends  to  be 
lovers. — You  laugh,"  said  he  ;  "  but  I  tell  you  there  is  phi- 
losophy in  that." 

"  So  you  think  lovers  must  not  be  good  friends?" 

"  Well,  no  ;  not  quite  that ;  but  love  in  the  earlier 
stages  is  fed  by  mystery ;  and  with  a  person  you  have 
known  from  the  cradle  there  is  no  place  to  begin.  Do 
you  see  ?  " 

"  I  see  that  you  have  studied  the  subject  very  care- 
fully," and  Isabel  laughed  again.  "  I  know  nothing  about 
such  things,  so  I  presume  you  are  right." 

"  But  I  will  be  frank  with  you,''  said  he,  looking  very 
steadily  at  her  as  he  spoke  ;  "  I  have  had  my  little  ro- 
mance, which  if  you  would  care  to  hear  I  should  like  to 
tell  you  some  time." 

He  spoke  very  seriously  now  and  Isabel  had  a  dis- 
turbed consciousness  that  the  blood  was  dyeing  her  cheek 
to  the  temples  for  a  moment,  and  then  returning  and 
leaving  it  very  pale.  But  she  managed  to  say,  very  quietly, 
that  she  should  be  pleased  by  the  confidence  ;  and,  a 
few  weeks  later,  one  quiet  evening,  he  told  her  the  follow- 
ing story  : 

"  After  leaving  college,  I  went  to  Louisville  and  studied 
law  in  the  office  of  Mr.  Wyckliffe,  who  stands  at  the  head  of 
his  profession  and  is  one  of  the  noblest  and  best  of  men. 
He  lived  in  a  fine  old  mansion  just  out  of  the  city,  and  I 
wa-s  occasionally  invited  there  to  dine.  His  only  daugh- 
ter presided  at  the  table,  and  the  guests  were  usually 
much  older  men  than  myself.  Mr.  Wyckliffe  was  a  student 
of  German  philosophy,  ancient  history,  and  delighted  in 
the  society  of  a  few  chosen  friends  of  similar  tastes.  One 
was  Mr.  Ernest  Bausen  from  Heidelberg,  an  Oreintal 
scholar,  who  afterwards  introduced  Dr.  Simonides,  a 
Greek  physician. 

"  The  conversation  of  these  men  was  both  interesting 
and  improving  to  a  young  fellow  of  my  age,  and  gave  a 
new  turn  to  my  reading  and  studies.  It  was  an  added 
charm  to  these  discussions  that  Alice  Wyckliffe  also  de- 
lighted in  the  stories  of  Greek  life  and  art  told  by  the 
doctor, 

"  One  day,  he  dwelt  with  poetic  effect  upon  the  cremation 
of  the  dead,  and  preserving  the  sacred  ashes  in  urns  of 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  2^5 

beautiful  and  artistic  workmanship,  whicli  he  compared 
to  the  disadvantage  of  the  modern  idea  of  Christain 
burial. 

"  '  The  body,'  he  said,  "  which  we  have  cared  for  through 
life  and  is  endeared  to  us  by  such  ties,  becomes  food  for 
worms  and  is  a  source  of  disease  and  death  to  those  left 
behind.' 

"  Once,  Doctor  Simonides  invited  us  to  his  house  and 
displayed  his  collection  of  urns,  or  treasures  as  he  called 
them.  One  in  particular,  attracted  Alice's  attention  as 
being  a  rare  work  of  art,  and  she  inquired  if  it  had  a  his- 
tory. 

"  '  Yes,'  said  the  doctor,  embracing  it  reverently,  *  this 
contains  the  ashes  of  my  darling,  my  first  and  only  love. 
She  died  on  the  day  set  for  our  marriage.  In  accordance 
with  our  custom,  I  have  preserved  her  memory  thus,  and 
while  I  do  not  believe  that  my  beloved  Ursula  dwells  in 
this  urn,  yet  it  is  of  all  things  on  earth  to  me,  the  most 
sacred.  I  have  seen  but  one  Ursula  and  this  rare  pat- 
tern of  Greek  vase  serves  as  a  telescope  through  which  I 
behold  anew  each  day,  in  the  world  of  spirits,  my  angel 
bride.' 

"Alice  was  profoundly  impressed  by  this,  and  we  talked 
much  together  of  the  habits  of  the  ancients,  of  poetry,  of 
philosophy — of  which  she  was  quite  a  student.  We  read 
German  together — and — well,  naturally  enough,  we  drifted 
from  philosophy  into  sentiment  and  from  sentiment  into 
love — as  we  thought. 

"One  day,  while  riding,  Alice's  horse  took  fright  and 
threw  her.  She  was  carried  home  insensible ;  and 
when  I  saw  her  pale  face  that  evening,  the  pang  it 
gave  me  was  deeper  than  that  felt  by  any  brother ; 
and  now,  Isabel,  my  story  is  nearly  ended.  The  in- 
jury to  her  spine  proved  fatal,  and  this  blooming 
young  creature  knew  that  her  days  were  numbered. 

"  Her  father  and  I  watched  over  her  for  two  months. 
Day  by  day,  little  by  little,  the  light  burned  lower  in  the 
socket  until  the  oil  of  life  was  consumed.  Soon,  the  lids 
closed,  and  the  light  of  heaven  went  out  from  those  soft 
blue  eyes;  the  pulsations  of  the  heart  grew  fainter  and 
fainter.  '  She  sleeps,'  said  her  father.  '  Yes,'  said  the 
doctor,  taking  the  hand  of  his  patient,  '  but  when  she 
awakens,  it  will  be  in  heaven.     Like  the  swinging  pendu- 


2  25  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

lum  of  a  clock  when  the  spring  is  broken,  each  vibration 
is  shorter  and  you  can  hardly  perceive  when  it  ceases  to 
keep  time,  or  passes  into  eternity.'  Mr.  Wyckliffe  was 
overcome  with  grief  when  the  last  sad  moment  came  ;  and 
her  dear  body,  attired  for  death,  was  left  alone  with  the 
faithful  servants  and  attendants. 

"  I  was  permitted  to  watch  by  the  mortal  remains  of  Alice 
that  night.  Robed  in  white,  she  lay  like  a  pale,  broken  lily. 
So  pure,  so  beautiful ;  her  face  almost  radiant  with  a 
sweet  smile  as  though  beholding  a  heavenly  vision. 

"  'There  is  no  indication  of  life,'  said  the  doctor  on  the 
next  morning,  'except  an  external  appearance,  and  that 
sometimes  continues  for  several  days.' 

"  Still,  I  could  not  feel  that  she  was  dead,  and  after  my 
night's  vigil,  I  gave  place  to  her  father  with  the  promise 
that  he  would  not  leave  her  alone. 

"  Toward  evening,  I  resumed  my  watch  and  opened  the 
blinds  of  the  window  overlooking  the  garden.  The 
golden  rays  of  the  setting  sun  illumined  the  room,  cast- 
ing a  rosy  tint  upon  the  face  of  Alice. 

"I  knelt  by  her  side,  and  untying  the  white  satin  ribbon 
that  bound  the  waxen  hands  together, — they  seemed  like 
snowflakes  as  they  fell  apart, — ^I  reverently  took  them  in 
my  own,  saying  '  Dear,  dear  Alice,  speak  to  me  !  Tell 
me  what  you  see  behind  that  mysterious  veil  !  ' 

"  Gradually  there  came  a  rose-tint  into  her  cheek,  a  trem- 
bling of  the  long  lashes,  and  the  blue  eyes  slowly  opened. 
I  was  not  astonished,  but  kissed  her  again  and  again,  say- 
ing, '  Be  quiet,  my  love.  You  have  been  sleeping  nicely. 
Close  your  eyes  again.     You  must  have  some  nourishment.' 

"  'Dear  Frank,'  she  whispered,  as  I  put  some  wine  to  her 
lips,  and  then  called  her  nurse  from  the  adjoining  room. 
Soon  her  father  was  bending  over  his  child.  The  doctor 
came,  and  pronounced  it  one  of  the  rare  cases  of  abnormal 
suspension  of  vitality,  or  trance. 

"Dr.  Simonides  had  been  absent  from  the  city.  He 
was  now  called  in,  and  found  the  patient  again  in  what 
seemed  a  natural  sleep.  He  told  Dr.  Wyckliffe  that  the 
lamp  of  life  was  flickering  in  its  socket,  and  would  soon 
be  extinguished  forever  ;  and  so  it  proved. 

"  Breathless  with  hope,  we  watched  for  her  awakening" 
again.  Her  tyes  opened,  and  such  a  smile  illumined  her 
face  as  she  said  : 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  227 

"'Papa, — Frank,  I  have  seen  wonderful  things.  I  can- 
not tell  you,  for  you  would  not  understand.  But  you  must 
rejoice  when  I  am  gone.' 

"  Presently  the  face  became  more  radiant,  the  voice  sank 
to  a  whisper  ;  and  in  perfect  peace  the  spirit  took  its  ever- 
lasting flight.  There  was  no  mistake  this  time.  Death 
had  surely  claimed  his  victim  and  affixed  his  seal  on  the 
rigid  and  icy  form. 

"  After  this  wonderful  experience  Mr.  Wyckliffe  would 
not  consent  to  having  his  daughter  put  under  the  sod. 
The  urn  containing  the  ashes  of  Ursula  had  interested 
Alice  and  a  similar  vase,  which  she  herself  had  decorated, 
was  now  ready  to  receive  her  earthly  and  sublimated 
remains. 

"  Again  the  body  was  robed  in  white.  It  was  placed  in 
a  casket  and  surrounded  by  flowers,  the  natural  emblems 
of  frail  mortality.  After  the  funeral  services  at  the  house, 
the  casket  was  followed  by  the  loved  ones  to  a  building- 
erected  by  Dr.  Simonides  at  his  home.  Here  the  body 
of  Alice  was  removed  from  its  rosewood  casket  and  placed 
in  a  similar  one  made  of  clay.  The  doctor  then  placed 
around  the  body,  a  white  powdered  incense,  which,  he  said, 
had  the  double  effect  of  causing  it  to  consume  like  tinder 
and  at  the  same  time,  emitting  an  agreeable  resinous 
odor. 

"  'We  will  now,'  said  he  solemnly,  '  give  back  to  mother 
earth  the  mortal  portion  of  her  child.' 

"Placing  the  casket  upon  a  sliding  frame,  it  entered  the 
glowing  furnace,  and  the  door  was  closed. 

"  '  It  is  thus,'  said  the  doctor,  '  that  pure  gold  is  separated 
from  the  dross.' 

"  Soon,  there  was  perceived  a  pleasing  odor  from  the 
incense  pervading  the  room,  and  in  a  short  time,  by  a 
simple  mechanism,  the  crucible  was  removed  to  the  cool- 
ing chamber,  Demetrius  the  faithful  Greek  servant,  having 
charge  of  all  the  details. 

"  Mr.  Wyckliffe  and  I  followed  the  doctor  to  his  labora- 
tory where,  upon  a  marble  slab,  rested  the  crucible.  The 
lid  was  lifted  by  the  doctor  and  Demetrius,  revealing  to 
the  sight  a  mound  of  white  ashes. 

"  '  The  Greeks  observed  a  religious  ceremony  in  deposit- 
ing the  ashes  in  the  urn,'  said  the  doctor,  '  and  the  wing 
of  a  white  dove  was  used,  together  with  a  unique  silver 


228  ,  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

ladle  like  these,  fashioned  after  two  human  hands  joined 
together." 

"  The  urn  brought  by  Mr.  Wyckliff  was  placed  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  crucible  and  the  ashes,  carefully  and  reverently 
collected  by  the  dove's  wing  and  the  silver  ladle,  were 
j^laced  in  the  beautiful  receptacle.  Then,,  hermetically 
sealing  the  inner  metal  lining  of  the  urn,  it  was  placed  upon 
a  small  pedestal,  and  thus  presented  by  the  doctor  to  Mr. 
Wyckliffe  and  the  bereaved  friends,  saying: 

"  '  Here  are  the  sacred  ashes  of  your  child,  which  once 
enclosed  her  beautiful  spirit.     Cherish  them  for  her  sake.' 

"  And  we  turned  away  feeling  that  we  left  her  at  the  gate 
of  Paradise,  and  not  in  a  dreary  cemetery." 

As  Isabel  listened  to  this  narrative  the  nature  of  the 
feeling  she  entertained  for  Frank  became  clearly  revealed 
to  herself.  She  could  no  longer  delude  herself  by  calling 
it  gratitude  or  friendship.  She  loved  him,  and  she  could 
not  help  a  pang  of  something  like  jealousy  at  even  the 
sublimated  image  of  this  young  girl,  who  might  now  have 
been  his  wife  with  a  claim  upon  his  supreme  devotion. 

She  spent  that  night  in  deep  and  solemn  communings 
with  her  own  heart.  She  did  not  know  that  he  loved  her  ; 
perhaps  his  tender  care  was  simply  the  ordinary  expression 
of  a  sympathetic  nature.  But  if  he  did — what  then.''  Was 
there  not  an  impassable  gulf  between  them  ?  Her  religion, 
which  was  interwoven  with  her  life,  was  to  him  a  delusion 
and  a  superstition.  No  happiness  would  be  possible  in  a 
marriage  built  over  this  chasm — her  world  not  his  world  ; 
their  souls  would  be  perpetually  divided,  and  such  a  union 
a  mockery. 

Such  were  the  conclusions  at  which  she  arrived  after  a 
sleepless  night ;  but  she  had  fought  her  fight  and  had  van- 
quished, and  came  down  to  breakfast  very  pale,  though  in 
other  respects  much  as  usual. 

She  was  not  sorry  to  find  a  note  from  Frank  saying  that 
unexpected  and  urgent  business  would  take  him  to  Sacra- 
mento for  a  few  weeks. 

Instead  of  galloping  over  the  hills  with  Falcon  and  his 
master  at  her  side,  she  now  rode  alone,  excepting  such 
days  as  Roland  could  accompany  her.  How  the  glory 
had  faded  out  of  the  sunsets,  the  landscape,  and  the  joy 
out  of  everything,  since  she  had  sternly  faced  the  fact  that 
this  had  only  been  an  episode,  and  that  she  must  live  on 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  229 

her  life  alone,  without  that  one  presence  which  gave  it  its 
chief  charm  !  But  she  was  strong  and  brave,  and  never 
wavered  in  her  resolve.  "  And  yet  I  am  glad  to  have 
known  him.  I  am  richer  for  having  loved  him,"  she  said 
again  and  again  to  herself  in  solitude.  And,  recalling  his 
unflinching  adherence  to  what  he  thought  right  and  just 
as  applied  to  every-day  life  and  duty,  then  his  perfect  con- 
sistency as  applying  the  same  rule  to  all  he  held  sacred 
in  religion,  in  the  face  of  all  opposition  or  influence,  she 
wondered  if  God  would  or  could  leave  such  an  earnest  soul 
long  in  the  dark  and  doubt.  Can  it  be  possible  in  the 
providence  of  a  kind  and  loving  Father,  for  such  a 
spirit  to  be  eternally  lost  ? 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

It  was  a  bright,  crisp  morning  in  the  early  winter,  when 
Isabel  heard  once  more  the  welcome  sound  of  Falcon's 
hoofs  upon  the  steep  mountain  road.  What  glad  music 
there  was  in  the  resonant  voice  she  heard  extending  words 
of  gay  greeting  to  Roland  and  her  mother  !  She  trembled 
to  think  the  joy  that  presence  brought  to  her  heart, 

"  Are  you  well  ?  he  said,  looking  at  her  anxiously,  his 
quick  glance  at  once  detecting  a  little  less  color,  something 
gone  from  her  contagious  buoyancy. 

But  Isabel  was  an  adept  in  diverting  attention  from  her- 
self, and  had  soon  drawn  him  to  tell  of  the  things  and 
people  he  had  seen.  Then  he  must  ride  with  Roll  a,  as 
she  had  pressing  duties  at  home  ;,  and  after  the  ride  and 
early  dinner,  she  had  an  important  letter  to  write  ;  and  so 
the  delightful  hour  when  he  could  be  with  her  alone  seemed 
to  be  eluding  him. 

Frank  had  been  thinking  for  many  days  of  this  interview, 
for  he  had  determined  at  last  to  ask  that  question  upon 
which  hung  his  hope  of  happiness  in  life.  If  she  did  not 
love  him — he  dared  not  think  how  it  would  empty  life  of 
hope  and  aim  !  And  just  because  the  question  involved 
so  much,  he  had  waited  all  these  months,  not  daring  to 
ask  it;  but  now,  it  could  no  longer  be  delayed.  His  pres- 
ence was  required  at  home,  and  he  must  know  his  fate, 
and  perhaps — oh,  what  joy!  Perhaps  she  would  go  with 
him  !  And  with  pride  and  rapture  he  thought  of  introduc- 
ing to  Kate  this  glorious  woman  as  his  wife  ! 

"  Am  I  never  to  see  you  alone .'' "  he  asked  in  a  low 
tone,  as  they  came  out  from  the  tea-table. 

The  color  rose  swiftly  to  her  face  as  she  hesitated  a 
moment,  then  said  : 

"  Shall  we  walk  to  the  great  oak  and  see  the  sunset  ?  " 

He  gave  her  a  grateful  pressure  of  the  hand  in  reply, 
Mer  heart  was  beating  very  rebelliously  as  he  wrapped 
the  soft  folds  of  the  cloak  tenderly  about  her;  and  they 
walked  on  in  silence,  thinkinir  unutterable  things. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  23 1 

"  I  believe  I  like  this  crisp  air  even  better  than  those 
soft,  languorous  summer  evenings."  Isabel  said  this  with 
a  feeling  that  somet/ii/ig  must  be  said. 

"  Isabel,"  said  he,  "  I  am  going  to  make  a  confession. 
I  am  a  pretender,  a  dissembler,  and,  more  than  that,  I 
am  a  coward.  I  have  framed  all  sorts  of  pretexts  for 
staying  here — pretended  there  was  business  requiring  it. 
There  was  none,  except  such  as  I  made  to  suit  my  pur- 
pose. It  was  all  an  insincere  sham.  It  is  because  I  love 
you,  Isabel — because  I  could  not  tear  myself  from  the 
enchantment  of  your  presence — that  I  almost  forgot  the 
calls  of  duty.  You  were  in  the  sunsets,  in  the  landscape  ; 
it  wzs  your  presence  that  made  these  mountain  wilds  a 
Paradise.  And  I  dared  not  tell  you,  Isabel,  because  I 
feared  I  should  then  lose  you  utterly." 

Her  hand  was  trembling  in  the  strong  grasp  of  his  now. 

"  I  dared  not  tell  you,"  he  went  on,  "  because  I  dared 
not  hope.  You  seemed  sometimes  so  remote  and  so  un- 
attainable ;  and  sleepless  nights  have  I  spent  in  trying  to 
nerve  myself  for  what  might  come.  But  now,  oh  my  dar- 
ling one  !  you  do  not  turn  from  me  ;  now  I  begin  to  hope 
that  your  heart  beats  responsive  to  my  own  !  " 

Isabel  was  pale  and  trembling  and  unresistingly  allowed 
the  strong  arms  to  enfold  her.  Then,  disengaging  her- 
self, she  looked  with  a  pathetic  earnestness  into  his  eyes 
and  said: 

"Yes,  Frank,  I  love  you." 

Again  she  was  held  close  to  his  heart,  while  he,  in  pas- 
sionate joy,  murmured,  ''Thank  God!"  and  again  and 
again  kissed  her. 

She  closed  her  eyes  and  rested  like  a  tired  child,  while 
Frank's  words  rushed  on  in  a  torrent. 

"And  now,  there  need  be  no  cruel  separation.  I  must 
go  away,  but  you  will  go  with  me." 

The  eyelids  opened  reluctantly,  and  she  said,  "  No — 
that  cannot  be.  God  knows  I  long  for  it,  but  P>ank, 
it  cannot  be." 

"  Why,  Isabel,"  said  he,  "  there  will  be  no  separation 
from  your  mother  and  Rolla ;  they  shall  go  with  us." 

"No;  you  do  not  understand  me,"  she  said  painfully, 
and  freeing  herself  entirely  from  his  embrace.  "  Listen, 
I  will  try  to  tell  you  what  I  mean — but  oh,  it  costs  me  so 
much !  " 


232 


THE   STORMY    PETREL 


"My  dear  one,  you  tremble.  I  have  agitated  you. 
Here,  let  me  put  this  cloak  about  you.  There, — now, 
don't  try  to  speak  yet.  We  have  plenty  of  time  to  talk 
over  everything  now ;  and  all  shall  be  just  as  you  wish, 
dear.  Perhaps  it  may  be  better  to  wait  if  you  prefer  it ; 
I  can  arrange  to  come  back  for  you  in  a  few  weeks." 

"  Oh,  you  do  not  understand  yet,  and  I  must  give  you 
such  pain.  I  cannot — marry  you,  Frank.  It  would  not 
be  right." 

"  My  God,  what  do  you  mean  ?     Not  right  ?  " 

"  No,  Frank ;  not  right,  and  not  wise  ;  we  should  not 
be  happy." 

"  What  in  God's  name  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  he. 

"  We  should  not  be  happy,"  she  repeated,  now  more 
firmly.  "  We  hold  opposite  views  upon  a  vital  subject. 
What  is  to  me  the  most  sacred  of  all  beliefs  is  to  you 
nothing,  or  less  than  nothing;  and  we  should  lead  sun- 
dered lives,  however  we  might  strive  to  cover  it  up." 

P'rank  had  been  looking  at  her  in  speechless  amaze- 
ment, utterly  incredulous  of  the  power  of  such  an  obstacle 
to  separate  them.  He  took  both  her  hands  in  his  and 
looked  steadfastly  into  her  troubled  eyes. 

"  I  would  not  for  all  this  world  disturb  your  faith.  I 
could  not  love  you  nearly  so  well  if  you  hadn't  it.  I  shall 
always  treat  it  as  sacred,  for  it  is  yours  ;  and  if  God  or  a 
generous  heaven  should  ever  grant  us  children,  I  should 
wish  them  to  receive  it  as  a  precious  inheritance  and  to 
cling  to  it ;  for  I  tell  you,  Isabel,  it  is  miserable  to  be  com- 
pelled to  doubt  and  grope  in  the  darkness  after  the  truth." 

He  had  never  seemed  to  her  so  deserving  of  all  the 
best  that  anyone  could  bestow  as  at  that  moment;  and 
the  miserable  girl  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  which  she 
was  utterly  unable  to  control. 

Again  Frank  folded  her  closely  in  his  arms  and  sooth- 
ingly stroked  her  hair. 

"Now,  dearest,"  he  said,  "we  will  not  talk  any  more; 
you  are  tired.  It  is  enough  to  be  together  in  silence. 
Now_my  heart  is  laid  bare  to  you,  and  I  have  the  joy  of 
knowing  that  you  love  me — a  little.  So  what  is  there  to 
arrange  ?  There  is  time  enough  to  harmonize  all  these 
smaller  points.  And  if  the  kind  and  loving  Father  is  as 
you  believe,  then  He  knows  how  much  I  love  His  laws 
and  how  earnestly  I  am  striving  to  seek  them  out." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  233 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  she  said  ;  "  we  had  better  say 
no  more  to-night.  To-morrow  I  shall  be  better  able  to 
tell  you  what  I  mean  and  to  make  you  understand  why  I 
feel  this  sacrifice  imposed  upon  me." 

"  Dearest,"  said  Frank,  as  they  approached  the  now 
lighted  house,  "  may  I  tell  your  mother  and  Rolla.-'" 

"  No, — no, — no  !  "  said  she  ;  "  not  for  the  world.  Leave 
that  to  me." 

Those  two  people,  however,  had  their  own  conjectures 
about  this  prolonged  view  of  the  sunset,  and  were  not  a 
little  mystified  in  observing  its  effect  upon  Frank  and  Is- 
abel, who  scarcely  spoke  after  returning.  Mrs.  Priest 
watched  him  very  closely,  for  that  gentle  lady  had  her 
own  unspoken  hopes,  and  she  said  to  herself  :  "Assuredly 
no  unhappy  man  ever  looked  like  that.  Why,  his  face 
seemed  transfigured  !  And  how  he  watched  her  !  But 
something  has  happened.  What  is  it?"  And  she  lingered 
about  her  daughter's  room  when  she  retired,  in  hope  of  a 
confidence,  which,  however,  was  not  bestowed. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

Isabel  made  a  pretext  of  retiring  while  her  mother  was 
there  ;  but  soon  as  she  was  alone  and  the  house  quiet  for 
the  night,  she  arose,  put  on  a  warm  dressing-gown  and 
sat  down  to  her  desk,  and  wrote  as  follows  : 

My  dear  Frank  : 

"  In  the  solitude  of  this  hour  and  place,  I  will  try 
to  say  what  I  could  not  this  evening  ;  and  if  it  pains 
you  to  read,  know  that  my  owm  heart  is  torn  in  writ- 
ing it. 

"  Need  I  tell  you  again  that  I  love  you  !  Yes,  I  love 
you,  and  can  think  of  no  greater  joy  than  to  spend  my 
life  under  the  protecting  care  of  your  tender  and  generous 
heart ;  and  yet,  I  cannot  accept  this  happiness,  which 
would,  as  I  told  you  to-day,  be  built  over  a  chasm — and 
an  ever-widening  chasm.  At  first  we  might  not  be  so 
conscious  of  it,  but  we  should  soon  realize  that  we  lived 
apart;  that  we  were  not  in  sympathy  upon  the  most  vital 
of  all  subjects  ;  and  this  would  inevitably  react  upon  our 
feelings. 

"Terrible  as  it  is  to  part  now,  it  is  better  than  drifting 
gradually  asunder  after  marriage — seeing  love  fade  into 
indifference,  and  possibly  the  chain  which  bound  us  be- 
coming a  wearisome  burden. 

"  Oh,  why  need  it  be  so  ?  Why  can  you  not,  in  childlike 
simplicity,  accept  this  beautiful  and  sustaining  faith  ? 
But  I  know  your  convictions  are  as  deeply  rooted  as  my 
own.  So  I  see  no  hope,  and  will  try  to  take  up  my  life, 
shorn  of  its  beauty  and  its  joy,  and  for  the  sake  of  others, 
live  it  cheerfully  as  I  can.  But,  I  am  now,  and  shall  al- 
ways remain, 

"  Yours,  and  only  yours, 

"  Isabel.'* 

It  was  not  until  near  niorning  that  the  tired  eyes 
closed   in  sleep.     Her  moihei-,  finding  her  still  sleeping 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  235 

when  breakfast  was  ready,  kept  the  house  quiet,  wonder- 
ing, as  she  softly  moved  about,  what  it  all  meant. 

The  sound  of  Falcon's  hoofs  speeding  up  the  road  to 
the  cottage  dissipated  the  dreams  of  the  sleeping  girl,  and 
she  arose  and  called  her  mother. 

"  Mamma,  dear,"  she  said,  "  I  did  not  sleep  very  well, 
and  I  have  a  headache.  Will  you  please  give  this  note  to 
Mr.  Clayton  and  tell  him  I  will  see  him  later  in  the  day." 

With  eager,  trembling  hand,  Frank  seized  the  note,  and 
went  out  into  the  fresh  air  and  sunshine  to  read  his  fate. 

During  the  long  hours  of  the  day  he  could  not  have 
told  whether  he  was  most  happy  or  miserable.  Assur- 
edly he  could  not  be  very  WTetched  with  those  words  she 
had  uttered  last  night  still  ringing  in  his  ears,  and 
repeated  again  in  her  note.  And  he  felt  confident  of 
being  able  to  persuade  her  of  the  folly  of  her  decision. 
Still,  as  he  read  again  the  words  so  resolutely  penned,  he 
was  anxious. 

She  heard  his  horse  coming  up  the  path  on  his  return 
at  the  hour  appointed,  and,  throwing  a  wrap  about  her, 
walked  down  to  meet  him. 

He  sprang  to  the  ground,  and  was  at  her  side  in  an- 
other instant,  leading  Falcon  by  the  bridle. 

"  Let  us  walk,"  said  she  ;  "  we  are  more  undisturbed 
than  in  the  house." 

With  trembling  hand  he  tied  Falcon  in  a  sheltered 
spot,  and  they  turned  down  a  secluded  path  toward  the 
glen. 

"  Dear  one,  you  are  pale,"  said  he,  anxiously.  "  Now, 
we  must  sweep  away  all  those  miserable  obstacles,  and 
then  we  shall  both  be  happier." 

"  Ah,  if  they  could  be  swept  away ! "  she  said,  with  a 
wistful  look  at  him. 

"  But  you  know,  dear,  I  must  be  honest.  I  cannot  make 
myself  hold  beliefs — I " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  she  said,  sighing,  "  that  is  it,  and  that 
is  just  why  it  is  so  hopeless." 

"  But  you  would  not  for  such  a  cause  condemn  us  both 
to  wretchedness  ;  j'ou  cannot  mean  that !  " 

"  Oh,  Frank,  don't  break  my  heart!  Help  me  to  bear 
this  bravely.  Do  you  not  see  what  it  is  to  me  ?  "  And 
she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"  Isabel,    listen,"    said    Frank,    taking   both    of    those 


236  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

hands  into  his  own  ;  "  listen  !  Do  you  know  what  it 
would  mean  for  me  if  you  persisted  in  this  cruel  course  ? 
It  would  destroy  me.  My  life  would  be  ruined.  Think 
— think  what  you  are  doing  before  it  is  too  late."  And  he 
looked  into  her  eyes  with  an  intensity  which  frightened 
the  girl.  "  Think  of  your  realizing  when  it  is  past  recall 
that  you  have  destroyed  the  happiness  of  two  lives,  and 
for — what  shall  I  call  it? — for  a  mistaken  idea,  a  fantasy,  a 
whim  !  For  I  tell  you,  Isabel,  there  is  no  foundation  in 
this  structure  of  the  imagination.  We  would  7iot  be  sun- 
dered. We  would  not  grow  apart.  God  and  nature  in- 
tended our  souls  to  be  united  as  one.  You  are  mine, 
whether  you  give  yourself  to  me  or  not.  Have  confidence 
in  our  ability  to  help  each  other  to  a  right  understanding 
of  the  matter." 

Isabel  trembled  at  his  vehemence,  and  his  eyes  fairly 
burnt  her  own  wiih  their  intensity.  She  felt  her  courage 
wavering.  At  that  moment  a  step  was  heard  approach- 
ing. Fate  did  not  intend  she  should  reply  in  a  moment 
of  weakness. 

"  A  dispatch,  sir,  for  Mr.  Clayton,"  said  the  messenger. 
"  They  told  me  to  look  for  you  here." 

Frank  tore  open  the  envelope.     It  ran  thus  : 

"It  will  be  well  to  come  at  once ;  important. 

"  Claude  Duvall." 

"Very  well,"  he  said,  dismissing  the  messenger. 

"  Isabel,  my  fate  cannot  be  delayed ;  read  this.  I  shall 
sail  to-morrow,  unless — "  and  he  looked  with  an  eager- 
ness almost  pathetic  into  her  eyes  for  a  ray  of  hope. 

Her  hands  trembled  as  she  took  the  paper,  and  her  lips 
were  very  white  when  she  said,  "  Well,  it  is  better  so. 
You  had  better  go,  dear  Frank,"  laying  her  hand  with 
sad  tenderness  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Go,  I  implore  you  !  "  she  repeated,  seeing  he  hesitated. 
"  It  sounds  cruel,  but  I  must  say  it." 

"  Yes,  it  is  cruel,"  he  said,  in  a  choking  voice.  And 
they  walked  back  in  silence  to  the  house, 

Isabel  could  never  remember  how  it  was  when  they  re- 
turned, and  Mrs.  Priest  and  Roland  were  told  of  Frank's 
unexpected  and  immediate  departure  owing  to  the  receipt 
of  an  urgent  message.     In  the  midst  of  all  the  regrets  and 


\  THE  STORMY   PETREL,  237 

leave-taking,  she  sat  as  as  one  benumbed.  She  heard 
something  said  of  a  possible  war  between  North  and 
South,  and  heard  Roland  say  : 

"  Of  course  you  will  fight,  Clayton,  in  that  case?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  you  know  I  have  no  one  to  live  for, — and 
such  men  make  brave  soldiers,"  he  added,  with  a  grim 
laugh. 

She  could  not  stay  longer  in  the  room,  and  disappeared 
for  some  minutes. 

When  she  returned  Clayton  was  about  leaving.  He 
hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  said,  turning  to  Mrs. 
Priest : 

"  May  I  see  your  daughter  alone  for  a  few  moments  be- 
fore I  leave  ?  " 

They  passed  into  the  little  library,  and  closed  the  door. 
Ten  minutes  later  the  door  again  opened,  and  both  came 
out,  pale  and  silent, 

Frank  did  not  glance  at  her  again,  but  silently  pressed 
the  hands  of  Roland  and  his  mother,  and  in  another  mo- 
ment was  gone. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

The  war-cloud  not  larger  than  a  man's  hand  had  gradu- 
ally darkened  the  whole  sky,  and  in  April,  1861,  the  first 
lurid  flash  at  Fort  Sumter  was  followed  by  a  thun- 
der peal  which  shook  the  land.  The  country  was  in 
arms,  John  Brown's  prediction  was  in  process  of  fulfil- 
ment. The  pent  up  fires  North  and  South  had  found 
vent,  and  the  awful  conflagration  must  now  run  its  course. 
Few  there  were  who  could  foresee  the  extent — the  length, 
nor  the  end — of  that  fiery  track.  But  with  what  splendid, 
unflinching  bravery  did  men  throw  themselves  into  it  ! 

How  well  this  opportunity  for  action  suited  Frank 
Clayton  need  not  be  said.  He  knew  not  the  meaning  of 
fear ;  and  now,  under  the  stress  of  his  great  disappoint- 
ment, he  could  think  of  no  fate  more  to  be  desired  than 
to  lay  down  his  life  for  his  country.  He  was  too  brave  to 
commit  suicide;  but  this  other  he  might  do,  and  so  end  it 
honorably  and  for  a  purpose. 

The  colonelcy  of  a  regiment  in  Kentucky  was  offered 
him  ;  but  with  a  characteristic  steadfastness  and  tenacity 
of  purpose  he  preferred  the  lieutenant's  commission  in  a 
cavalry  regiment  from  Kansas,  which  seemed  to  offer  an 
opportunity  of  serving  his  old  ends  near  and  about  this 
field  of  action  in  days  gone  by. 

One  warm  afternoon  in  September  of  1861,  a  troop  of 
cavalry  rode  in  hot  haste  into  Fort  Scott.  The  young 
oflicer  at  their  head  dismounted  and  hastily  presented 
himself  before  the  commanding  oflicer,  saying  as  he  sa- 
luted him  : 

"  General,  I  have  just  captured  a  Confederate  messen- 
ger. He  is  just  outside.  Would  you  like  to  see  him? 
He  was  the  bearer  of  these  dispatches  from  General  Price, 
at  Drywood  Creek." 

General  Lane  seized  the  paper  eagerly,  smiling  as  his 
eye  hastily  ran  through  them. 

"Lieutenant  Clayton,"  said  he,  "send  me  this  fellow  at 
pnce.     This  is  a  piece  of  good  fortune  !     You  look  tired  ! 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  239 

Go  and  get  something  to  eat,  order  a  fresh  horse.  Rest 
for  two  hours,  and  then  report  to  me.  We  must  hit  Gen- 
eral Price  in  the  face  to-morrow  morning  before  he  gets 
it  washed." 

"Are  we  to  be  reinforced  to-night?"  asked  Clayton,  in 
surprise. 

"  Oh  no,  we  must  gain  time  b\'  our  audacity,  which  is 
often  equal  in  results  to  real  power  and  skill.  Our  eight 
hundred  men  and  the  little  mountain  howitzer  will  make 
a  deeper  impression  if  hurled  in  the  face  of  the  sleeping 
lion,  than  ten  times  the  number  coming  up  in  regular  bat- 
tle array  at  the  usual  fighting  hours." 

Very  little  rest  was  there  for  man  or  beast  in  Fort  Scott 
on  that  September  night.  The  few  families  of  soldiers  and 
sutlers  which  had  not  been  removed  during  the  day  were 
busy  all  night.  The  coming  and  going  of  messengers, 
orderlies,  teamsters  and  soldiers  bivouaced  anywhere  and 
everywhere,  in  houses,  on  porches,  verandas  and  yards,  all 
so  recently  occupied,  and  now  deserted  by  the  owners,  who 
had  fled  toward  Lawrence  and  the  interior  of  Kansas. 

Lieutenant  Clayton  returned  from  the  second  scouting 
expedition  on  which  General  Lane  had  despatched  him  at 
ten  in  the  evening,  and  reported  the  enemy  quietly  en- 
camped, with  but  small,  picket  force  out,  and  that  so 
posted  as  to  make  surprise  and  capture  easy. 

"  Lieutenant,"  said  the  general,  as  Clayton  was  about 
departing  after  making  his  second  report,  "  we  shall  move 
by  three  in  the  morning.  You  had  better  get  some  sleep 
if  you  can.  There  is  a  mattress  in  the  parlor  thrown  on 
the  piano — take  these  blankets,  go  in  there  and  lie  down. 
I'd  rather  have  you  near  in  the  event  I  should  need  you. 
We  are  likely  to  have  a  lively  time  in  the  morning,  and  your 
bed  there  may  enable  you  to  get  keyed  up  to  concert  pitch." 

"  And  that  we  may  all  pitch  in  concert,"  added  Cla}-- 
ton,  as  he  took  the  blankets  from  General  Lane's  hand 
and  adopted  his  suggestion. 

Just  before  daylight  on  the  following  morning  Clayton 
with  a  small  detachment  of  cavalry  might  have  been  seen 
carefully  moving  along  the  timber  that  skirted  Drywood 
Creek  and  near  its  crossing  on  the  road  to  Fort  Scott,  then 
halting  till  a  messenger  came  from  the  same  direction 
with  the  command  from  General  Lane  to  move  at  once  as 
his  force  was  in  position  to  strike. 


240  tHE   STORMY    PETREL. 

The  light  was  just  sufficient  to  reveal  the  enemy's 
pickets.  Then  as  quietly  as  possible  he  got  between 
them  and  their  camp.  Coming  leisurely  up  behind,  he  was 
halted  by  the  picket,  who  cried  : 

"  Who  comes  there  ?  " 

"  Relief,"  responded  Clayton. 

"  Advance,  relief,  and  give  the  countersign." 

Clayton  rode  up,  and  the  first  thing  the  picket  knew  he 
felt  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver  thrust  in  his  face,  with  the 
stern  command,  "  Surrender  without  a  word,  or  you  die  !  " 

"  I  will,  sir,  you  bet,"  said  the  picket,  coolly.  "  Don't 
you  shoot,  and  I  won't,  either." 

After  disarming  him,  Clayton  said  :  "  Now,  if  your  life 
is  worth  the  pains,  go  along  with  me  and  aid  by  direc- 
tions the  capture  of  the  other  pickets.  We  want  to  give 
General  Price  a  surprise-party." 

"  I'll  do  it,  Mr.  Clayton." 

"  How,  do  you  know  my  name?  "  said  Clayton. 

"  Well,  you  see,  Lieutenant,  I  was  with  Tom  Living- 
stone once  when  he  tried  to  give  you  a  surprise-party  in 
your  cabin  near  Lawrence,  and  you  and  that  devil,  Claude 
Duvall,  got  the  drop  on  us,  and  we  just  lit  out,  and  Duvall 
he's  now  in  prison  at  Independence." 

"There,  never  mind,"  interposed  the  lieutenant,  "I 
know  all  the  rest,  and  you  are  talking  too  loud  now  for 
your  own  good  or  ours,  for  remember  your  life  depends  on 
our  success.  If  you  iDetray  us  you'll  be  shot  then  and 
there,  and  court-martialed  afterward." 

"You  don't  need  to  swear  to  that.  Lieutenant.  I  be- 
lieve you're  telling  the  truth,  and  I  intend  to  act  on  your 
gentle  hint,  for  you  know  a  wink's  as  good  as  a  nod  to  a 
blind  boss." 

"  How  far  are  we  from  the  next  picket  ?  " 

"  Only  round  the  point  there.  See,  Lieutenant,  he's 
comin'  this  way  thinkin'  we're  the  relief.  You've  struck 
it  rich,  seein'  it's  the  very  time  for  relieving  guard." 

At  this  moment  a  horseman  was  seen  approaching, 
and  the  picket  rode  straight  into  the  trap. 

"  That  was  neatly  done,"  said  Clayton,  laughing,  as  the 
fellow,  before  he  could  recover  his  senses,  found  himself 
relieved  of  his  arms  and  accoutrements. 

Thus  one  after  another  of  the  outposts  were  taken,  un- 
til  the  main  crossing  was  reached.     By  this   time  it  was 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  241 

getting  light  enough  to  disclose  the  color  of  the  clothing 
of  the  men  approaching,  and  the  sentinel  made  a  bold 
dash  for  the  crossing  in  the  direction  of  the  camp,  when 
an  exciting  race  ensued. 

Seeing  the  picket  was  gaining  on  them,  and  observing 
General  Lane's  force  coming  up  at  double-quick.  Lieuten- 
ant Clayton  ordered  a  corporal  whom  he  kne^v  to  have  a 
cool  head  and  a  steady  aim,  to  halt  and  shoot. 

The  order  was  instantly  obeyed.  A  sharp  report  of  a 
rifle  rang  out  on  the  morning  air,  and  horse  and  rider 
rolled  in  the  long  grass.  Upon  reaching  him,  Clayton 
found  the  man  lying  stunned  by  the  fall,  and  the  horse 
dead  by  his  side. 

He  then  joined  his  command  in  the  advancing  column, 
and  was  first  in  position  in  front  of  the  enemy's  confused 
and  excited  force. 

General  Price  had  barely  time  to  throw  forward  his  in- 
fantry into  a  valley,  where  they  lay  low  in  the  long  grass, 
back  of  which  on  a  ridge  were  posted  six  pieces  of 
artillery,  while  resting  back  on  the  timber  to  his  right  was 
his  cavalry. 

Clayton  seeing  a  gleaming  line  of  bayonets  of  the  in- 
fantry sinking  out  of  sight  in  the  long  grass,  wisely  deter- 
mined not  to  charge  the  artillery  as  he  had  been  ordered 
by  General  Lane  to  do,  if  success  seemed  at  all  likely. 

The  firing  was  opened  by  the  cavalry  with  carbines, 
and  mounted  as  they  were  on  green  horses,  the  aim  was 
wild  as  that  of  the  enemy's  cannon,  which  alone  replied. 
Clayton  seeing  his  men  exposed  to  a  severe  fire,  with 
untrained  horses  in  the  face  of  such  noise — shouting  men 
— rumbling  wheels — cracking  of  rifles  and  booming  of 
cannon — realized  they  had  all  they  could  do  to  control  the 
maddened  steeds.  Hastily  wheeling  them  into  column 
Clayton  resolved  to  march  them  to  the  rear,  dismount 
them  and  try  on  foot,  with  greater  hope  of  success.  Just 
at  this  point,  under  cover  of  the  ridge  on  which  they  had 
first  formed,  the  adjutant  with  more  foreign  airs  than  mil- 
itary skill  rode  up.     Observing  Clayton,  he  exclaimed  : 

"Retreating? — For  shame.  Why  the  devil  don't  you 
halt  your  command  and  fight .''  " 

"  By  the  Eternal,  Adjutant,  if  you  don't  stand  out  of  my 
way,  I'll  strike  you  with  my  sword !  "  said  he,  raising  it  as 
he  spoke  high  above  his  head.     "  I  know  my  duty,  and  I 


242  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

dare  do   it,  too.     Don't   you   see    those   men  can't  fight 
mounted .''  " 

The  adjutant  stood  aside  and  soon  saw  the  dismounted 
cavalrymen  return  under  their  commander,  the  only 
mounted  man  in  sight  of  the  enemy's  artillery,  which  was 
at  once  trained  on  the  horseman.  Fortunately,  however, 
all  save  one  piece  was  too  far  removed  to  endanger  him. 
But  this  piece  sent  at  last  a  shot  so  close  as  to  make  the 
position  anything  but  pleasant.  Directing  the  aim  of  his 
men  toward  it,  a  number  of  rounds  were  fired  without 
effect. 

"  By  Jove  !  that  was  a  close  shave,"  said  Sergeant  Jack, 
as  a  shot  carried  away  Clayton's  overcoat,  which  was 
rolled  and  strapped  to  his  saddle. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Clayton,  coolly,  "  it  was  pretty  close. 
I  don't  think  the  horse  likes  it  much,"  and  he  tried  to 
soothe  the  terrified  animal.  Then  riding  up  to  the  officer 
in  charge  of  the  firing-party,  he  said  : 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  Your  shots  don't  seem  to  take 
effect." 

*'  No,  confound  it,"  he  answered  angrily.  "  It's  those 
long  blades  of  grass,  they  interfere  with  our  aim." 

Just  then  another  solid  shot  went  by,  humming  a 
requiem  of  death  so  near  as  to  make  both  start. 

Sergeant  Jack  was  at  Clayton's  side  in  a  moment. 
"  For  God's  sake,  get  off  that  horse,"  he  said.  "  Don't 
you  see  you  are  just  a  target  for  that  piece  .-"  " 

"  Sergeant,"  said  Clayton,  not  seeming  to  hear,  "  bring 
me  your  rifle.  Now  hold  my  horse  by  the  bits,  two  of 
you,  and  let  me  try  my  hand  on  those  gunners."  The 
first  shot  told  on  one  of  the  number,  and  he  was  carried 
to  the  rear,  so  one  after  another  the  men  at  this  piece 
were  picked  off  by  his  steady  aim,  they  responding  the 
while  with  shot  and  shell,  grape  and  canister.  Finally  the 
piece  was  hauled  off  by  hand,  and  the  duel  with  the  can- 
non ended  in  victory  for  the  lieutenant. 

By  this  time  General  Lane  had  come  up  with  infantry 
and  one  mountain  howitzer  under  immediate  command  of 
Colonel  Montgomery.  The  battle  continued  at  long 
range  for  several  hours,  only  the  Springfield  rifles  of  a 
portion  of  the  infantry  and  the  Sharps  carbines  of  the  dis-  ' 
mounted  cavalry  being  able  to  reach  the  enemy  or  do  any 
execution. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  243 

Observing  that  the  cavahy  posted  to  his  left  was  mov- 
ing rapidly  in  the  direction  of  the  crossing  with  evident 
intention  of  cutting  oE  the  retreat,  Clayton  called  Colonel 
Montgomery's  attention  to  the  fact. 

"  He  has  discovered  our  strength,"  said  the  colonel, 
"  and  is  going  to  try  a  flank  movement  on  us." 

"  It  looks  as  though  it  was  our  weakness  he  had  dis- 
covered," Clayton  was  saying  to  himself. 

"  We  must  retreat  quietly  without  his  knowledge,"  con- 
tinued the  colonel.  "  Lieutenant,  mount  your  men  and 
cover  our  retreat." 

The  order  to  fall  back  was  passed  down  the  line  and 
the  whole  force  retreated  in  order,  leaving  only  the 
cavalry  detachment  under  Lieutenant  Clayton  in  sight  of 
the  enemy.  Watching  their  movements  Clayton  fell  back 
just  in  time  to  make  the  crossing  before  the  enemy's 
cavalry  could  reach  him.  But  despite  his  efforts  several 
unfortunate  fellows  were  cut  oiT  and  killed  at  the  very 
banks  of  the  stream.  After  crossing  over  Clayton  threw 
his  men  in  line  of  battle,  and  held  the  ford  against  more 
than  ten  times  his  number,  which  came  up  to  the  timber's 
edge  and  opened  fire,  but  dared  not  venture  to  charge  the 
strong  position. 

The  retreat  back  to  Fort  Scott  was  made  in  such  good 
order  that  it  was  not  until  next  morning  that  General 
Price  learned  it  was  only  a  small  picket  force  holding  the 
crossing  of  the  Drywood. 

The  audacity  of  the  movement  had  resulted  as  General 
Lane  thought.  Everything  valuable  had  been  removed 
from  Fort  Scott.  Fort  Lincoln  had  been  strengthened  in 
men  and  munitions  of  war,  and  the  little  army  was  in 
light  fighting  trim.  Price  hovered  near  the  spot  where  he 
had  been  out-generaled  for  two  days,  by  which  time  the  lit- 
tle army  was  reinforced  by  several  militia  companies,  and 
two  or  three  regiments  of  volunteers.  General  Price  saw 
the  force  accumulating,  and  then  commenced  a  retrograde 
movement  back  to  Missouri.  The  enemy  out  of  the  way, 
a  portion  of  the  cavalry  was  sent  to  reconnoitre  and 
harass  his  rear.  Lieutenant  Clayton  was  of  this  com- 
mand, and  so  closely  did  they  follow  that  several  skir- 
mishes ensued  between  it  and  the  enemy's  rear-guard. 

Then  the  enemy  broke  up  into  detachments  and  took 
different  routes  ;  the  main  body  going  south  under  Gen- 


244  "^"HE    STORMY    PETREL. 

eral  Price.  At  Ball's  Mills,  near  the  border,  quite  a  large 
force  of  graycoats  had  made  a  stand  at  the  bridge  across 
the  creek,  and  thrown  up  temporary  breastworks  along 
its  banks  ;  a  strong  force  defending  the  cornfield,  which 
flanked  the  only  road  or  lane  leading  to  the  bridge. 

Again  the  mountain  howitzer  which  accompanied  the 
command  was  brought  into  requisition,  to  shell  the  timber 
and  sweep  the  field  with  grape  and  canister.  This  had 
the  effect  of  driving  the  enemy  from  his  position,  when  a 
charge  was  sounded  and  away  went  the  cavalry  with  a 
shout,  and  gleaming  steel  flashed  brightly  in  the  sunlight, 
as  over  ditch  and  fence,  through  hedge  of  thorns,  across 
the  field,  amid  the  corn,  here  a  friend  and  there  a  foe, 
they  stop  to  shoot  and  away  they  go.  The  shells  went 
screaming  overhead  like  destroying  angels  from  Hades 
loosed,  bursting  mid-air  with  hideous  cry,  then  crashing 
through  bridge,  horse,  rider,  or  falling  spent  to  the 
ground.  On  rushed  maddened,  frighted  steeds,  riderless, 
bent  on  escaping  destruction.  It  was  a  scene  of  wild 
horror. 

Clayton's  detachment  was  first  to  cross  the  bridge  in 
hot  pursuit  of  the  enemy's  fleeing  rear-guard,  who  having 
fired  it,  didn't  wait  to  see  destruction  complete,  but  fled 
after  their  retreating  comrades.  After  detailing  men  to 
extinguish  the  flames,  Clayton  rushed  on  in  pursuit  of  the 
fleeing  remnants. 

Only  a  short  distance  away,  he  saw  two  men  running 
for  the  shelter  of  the  wood  on  the  left. 

"  After  them  !  "  he  cried,  pointing  toward  the  field 
where  they  were. 

The  officer  stopped  to  take  down  the  fence,  when  Clay- 
ton, foreseeing  the  men  would  escape  such  deliberate  pur- 
suit, put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  ordering  a  file  of  men  to 
follow  he  cleared  the  fence,  and  gave  chase,  snouting 
"  Halt  !  halt  !"  Then  sheathing  his  sabre  and  drawing  his 
revolver,  he  fired  a  shot  which  brought  the  men  to  a  stand 
within  twenty  paces  of  the  wood,  where  pursuit  would  have 
been  almost  fruitless.     The  man  in  the  rear  cried  : 

"  I'se  shot,  I  gibs  up.  Mars  Yankee,  I  gibs  up." 

"Hands  up  and  surrender,"  shouted  Clayton,  as  the 
first  man,  in  full  Confederate  colonel's  uniform,  turned 
with  blanched  cheek,  and  in  a  faltering  voice,  said  ; 

"  I  surrender,  sir,  don't  fire." 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  245 

"Yes,  sah,  we  gwinter  gib  up  dis  heah  race." 

The  man  who  spoke  last  was  getting  up  from  the 
ground  as  he  uttered  the  words,  a  look  of  smiling  satis- 
faction on  his  face. 

"  I  done  tole  Mars  Henry  way  back  yander  dat  it  was 
mighty  more  skerry  to   run  dan  to  stop  and  gib  it  up." 

"  Yes,  you  d — d  black  rascal,  if  you  hadn't  been  so  in- 
fernally slow,  and  had  run  as  glibly  as  you  talk,  we 
could  have  escaped,"  said  his  companion,  scowling 
fiercely.  "Your  smiling  face  shows  how  much  you  are 
afraid  of  the  Yankees." 

"Now,  Mars  Henry,  you  knows  how  much  I  wanted  to 
go  long  wid  de  wagons,  only  a  little  way  roun  de  bluff 
road  dah,  wid  de  odder  niggers  an  de  mules,  an  de  bosses, 
an  yer  wouldn't  lem  me,  but  made  dis  nigger  stay  wid 
you  and  tote  dese  yere  tings,"  holding  up  as  he  did  so 
the  colonel's  sword  and  belt,  and  other  impedimenta  of 
which  he  had  relieved  himself  in  the  race. 

Quickly  relieving  the  negro  of  his  valuables  and  his 
master  of  his  revolver,  then  turning  the  latter  over  to  a 
file  of  soldiers,  Clayton  ordered  the  negro  to  guide  him 
to  the  wagons,  and  to  show  the  route  the  fleeing  rebels 
had  taken. 

After  a  short,  sharp  ride  the  fleeing  party  were 
brought  to  a  halt  by  the  firing  of  the  advance.  Only  a 
short  skirmish  ensued,  when  the  guard  of  the  enemy  fled, 
and  in  a  thick  wood  in  an  angle  of  the  creek  was  found 
the  train  of  over  a  hundred  and  fifty  negroes,  men, 
women  and  children,  gathered  from  the  neighborhood  to 
be  taken  further  south  with  the  army,  all  huddled 
together  with  the  horses,  mules  and  provisions  for  a  long 
journey.  After  a  brief  pursuit  of  the  fleeing  and  discour- 
aged enemy  the  spoils  of  war  and  freedom  were  sent 
back  to  Ball's  Mills,  where  late  in  the  evening  the  Union 
forces  went  into  camp  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER  L. 

On  the  following  morning  Clayton  obtained  permission 
of  General  Lane  to  send  the  colony  of  negroes  into 
Kansas,  with  all  the  stock,  wagons,  etc.,  etc. 

"  General  Lane,"  said  Clayton,  "  I  want  to  keep  trace  of 
these  fugitives  so  that  at  the  proper  time  when  the  Gov- 
ernment will  permit,  they  may  be  armed,  equipped  and 
made  soldiers  of.  There  is  splendid  fighting  material 
here,"  said  he. 

The  general  shook  his  head. 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  said  he,  after  a  pause,  "  but, 
our  Government  is  not  ready  for  such  a  radical  innovation, 
and  would  sufifer  the  rebellion  to  succeed  rather  than  al- 
low these  sable  sons  to  aid  in  its  suppression.  However, 
it  can  do  no  harm  for  you  to  carry  out  your  idea  of  mass- 
ing them  together  in  Kansas.  Indeed,  it  must  do  good, 
inasmuch  as  laborers  are  greatly  needed,  and  these 
men  will  take  the  places  of  white  men  who  would  readily 
enlist  if  a  substitute  on  the  farm  could  be  had." 

And  so  it  turned  out  that  the  colony  went  to  Kansas 
and  Gilbert  returned  as  a  body-seivant  to  Lieutenant 
Clayton. 

Shortly  after  this,  information  was  received  that  the 
enemy  were  establishing  a  depot  of  supplies  at  Osceola,  in 
Missouri,  and  from  that  point  large  quantities  had  already 
been  distributed  to  other  points. 

General  Lane  decided  to  attack  and  destroy  this  depot. 
He  moved  quickly  by  night,  and  with  break  of  dawn 
splinters  of  shot  and  shell  rained  on  the  unsuspecting 
citizens  and  garrison. 

Fortunately  the  Confederate  forces  were  so  posted 
that  neither  the  offensive  nor  defensive  part  of  war  put  in 
jeopardy  the  lives  of  the  innocent  women  and  children. 
But  the  babble  of  voices,  conflicting  commands,  swearing 
of  men,  blowing  of  trumpets,  clash  of  arms,  the  cries 
and  groans  of  frightened  and  dying  men  ;  above  which 
broke  at  short  intervals  the  booming  cannon  and  bursting 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  247 

shells,  casting  their  lurid  glare  high  in  the  heavens,  made 
a  terrifying  combination,  to  which  was  soon  added  flames 
from  the  temporary  barracks  ;  so  that  a  novice  might 
have  concluded  that  the  crack  of  doom  had  indeed  come. 

Thus  the  battle  raged  for  some  hours,  when  the  Confed- 
erates precipitately  fled,  leaving  the  town  and  such  of  its 
inhabitants  as  had  not  followed  or  preceded  their  de- 
fenders an  easy  and  unresisting  prey.  At  the  close  of 
the  day,  when  the  Union  army  was  preparing  to  retreat. 
General  Lane  despatched  an  orderly  to  command  the 
immediate  pres&nce  of  Lieutenant  Clayton. 

As  he  presented  himself  with  the  usual  military  salute, 
General  Lane  looked  intently  in  the  frank  open  face  of 
the  young  officer,  and  said  : 

"  You  were  up  all  last  night,,  Lieutenant,  and  have  slept 
none  to-day." 

"Yes,  and  'no,  General.  Under  the  circumstances,  I 
could  not  sleep  if  I  would,  and  would  not  if  I  could." 

"  Good,  I  like  that.  Now  tell  me,  are  you  fond  of  war, 
— bloodshed  and  carnage — shrieking  women  and  chil- 
dren— burning  homes  and  all  the  miseries  attendant 
thereon  ? " 

A  shadow  fell  upon  the  young  officer's  face  and  he 
answered  vehemently  : 

"No  sir,  I  abhor  it.  The  whole  front  and  circumstance 
of  war  is  harrowing  to  my  soul,  and  nothing  but  the 
highest  sense  of  duty  could  induce  me  to  inflict  such  hor- 
ror upon  a  fellow-man.  I  could  have  an  arm  taken  off  in 
the  line  of  duty  with  a  better  grace." 

"Give  me  your  hand,  Lieutenant,"  said  the  grizzled  old 
general.  "Now,  Lieutenant,  it  is  a  military  necessity 
that  this  town  shall  be  burned,  utterly  i/cstrflyed,  do  you 
hear? — and  I  want  it  done  as  speedily  and  humanely  as 
possible.  Mingle  no  unkindness  with  the  flame  of  your 
torch,  but  spare  nothing  which  will  afford  protection,  food 
or  comfort  to  the  enemy.  That  large  storehouse  of 
salt — I  am  at  a  loss  how  to  dispose  of  it." 

"  You  may  leave  that  to  me,  General,"  answered  Clay- 
ton, with  a  smile.  "  I'll  see  that  it  loses  its  savor. 
There  is  room  on  the  top  for  a  lot  of  whiskey,  turpentine, 
coal-oil,  tar  and  rosin  lying  now  in  the  warehouse, 
which  when  fired  will  saturate  the  mass.  Do  you  not 
think    it    will    make    a    good    combination  ?     But,    Gen- 


248  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

eral," — and  the  smile  died  out  of  his  face,  deep  lines  fur- 
rowing his  forehead  between  the  eyes — "  there  is  a 
harder  problem  for  me  to  solve  ;  how  shall  I  resist  the  ap- 
peals of  the  poor  women  and  children,  who,  having 
confidence  in  the  honor,  integrity  and  humanity  of  the 
old  f^ag,  and  the  brave  officers  and  men  who  bear  it  aloft, 
have  remained  at  home  ?  In  God's  name,  tell  me  that. 
How  can  I  resist  their  pleadings  that  their  homes  be 
spared  ?" 

"Yes,  it's  hard,  but,  that  is  war,"  said  the  general, 
grimly.  "  Wrap  about  them  the  stars  and  stripes ;  help 
them  to  remove  their  household  goods  ;  weep  with  them 
in  kindly  sympathy  ;  but — destroy  the  houses,  it  must 
be  so." 

By  the  time  the  sun  had  set  and  the  victorious  army 
was  well  moved  out  of  Osceola,  Lieutenant  Clayton,  with 
his  detachment  of  men,  was  busily  engaged  in  piling 
high  on  the  huge  mass  of  salt  all  the  combustibles  at 
hand,  which  completed,  he  set  about  removing  the  goods 
from  the  various  houses  of  such  of  the  poor  as  would  not 
believe  destruction  was  imminent. 

The  piteous  and  heartrending  appeals  for  home  and 
shelter,  the  hardening  of  a  heart  naturally  tender  to  such 
appeals,  must  be  passed  over  in  silence.  It  was  too  ter- 
rible.    The  memory  is  too  harrowing. 

And  now  the  hour  has  come,  as  the  shades  of  night 
draw  nigh,  for  the  lighting  of  the  candles.  And  such 
huge  tapers  as  Clayton  and  his  little  band  did  light ! 
casting  long  spectral  shadows  as  the  men  under  his  al- 
most omnipresent  and  personal  supervision  helped  the 
weeping  women  to  take  to  places  of  safety  such  things  as 
could  be  removed  before  the  torch  was  applied. 

Late  at  night,  when  the  work  of  destruction  had  well- 
nigh  subsided,  then  Clayton  and  his  party,  after  knocking 
in  the  heads  of  barrels  of  whiskey,  oil  and  tar  resting  on 
the  mass  of  salt,  touched  a  match  and  in  an  instant  the 
whole  roof  of  the  huge  structure  seemed  to  lift  high  into 
the  heavens,  a  living  sheet  of  blood-red  flame ;  and  the 
burning  stream  ran  like  fiery  serpents  in  every  direction. 
The  very  heavens  were  ablaze. 

A  few  hours  later,  the  conflagration  having  partly 
spent  its  fury,  Clayton  stood  on  an  eminence  overlook- 
ing not  Osceola,  but  where  that  rebellious  town  was  only 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  249 

yesternight  in  all  her  vaunted  security  and  pride,  where 
now  shone  only  a  vast  assemblage  of  fire-flies,  small  lu- 
minaries winking  'neath  their  ashen  brows  at  the  colossal 
jack-o-lantern,  or  great  central  sun,  seemingly  destined  to 
set  the  world  on  fire. 

"  Thus  it  was,"  soliloquized  he,  "that  Sodom  burned, 
and  I  wonder  if  the  pillar  of  salt  into  which  Lot's  wife 
was  turned  could  have  been  half  as  bright  and  beautiful 
as  the  many-colored  columns  of  fire  and  smoke  that  shoot 
heavenward,"  as  ev^er  and  anon  a  loud  report  of  a  burst- 
ing barrel  of  some  combustible  would  send  burning  staves 
and  cinders  like  meteors  high  above  the  blazing  column, 
to  be  lost  finally  in  outer  darkness. 

Turning  his  back  on  the  sickening  sight,  where  shelter- 
less women  and  children  hover  around  these  smoulder- 
ing mounds,  Clayton  sought  General  Lane's  tent,  where 
the  army  had  gone  into  camp  five  miles  from  the  city  of 
ashes. 

"General,  your  orders  are  obeyed,"  said  he. 

"You  are  pale,  sir,"  said  the  commanding  officer,  look- 
ing at  him  intently  for  a  moment. 

"Yes,  it  is  horrible  work.  I  feel  ten  years  older  for 
those  five  hours  of  cruel  destruction." 

"  Clayton,  give  me  your  hand,"  said  the  elder  man.  "  I 
wanted  that  work  done  thoroughly  as  a  man  who  loved 
such  destruction  would  do  it,  and  yet  I  wanted  it  divested 
of  all  unnecessary  brutality,  with  one  eye  to  obedience 
and  the  other  eye  on  humanity's  claims:  I  thank  you. 
I  think  the  order  has  been  faithfully  executed  in  spirit  and 
in  letter.  Go  get  your  breakfast,  dinner  and  supper, 
and  after  that  two  nights'  rest  in  one." 


CHAPTER  LI. 

On  the  following  morning,  while  the  soldiers  were  busy 
with  breakfast  around  their  camp  fires,  Dick  and  Gilbert 
were  seen  standing  apart  in  earnest  conversation  with  a 
tall  colored  man  dressed  in  homespun.  He  wore  also  a 
well-worn,  high  silk  hat,  his  hands  resting  on  a  long,  old- 
fashioned  Kentucky  rifle,  as  he  talked,  and  by  his  side 
the  faithful  coon-dog  which  seemed  to  be  an  attentive 
auditor  as  he  looked  up  in  the  faces  of  those  men.  After 
a  time  Dick  approached  Lieutenant  Clayton  and  informed 
him  there  was  a  man  who  wanted  to  see  him  on  important 
business. 

"Lieutenant,  'dis  yeres  an  ole  feller-serbant  of  mine, 
whats  jis  left  a  big  lot  of  darkies  bout  live  or  six  miles 
from  heah." 

"  Oh,  Gilbert,"  interposed  the  other,  "  it's  more'n  dat, 
it's  wellnigh  on  to  eight  miles  eben  if  they  stayed  whar 
I  lef  em  las  night." 

"What  is  your  name,"  asked  the  lieutenant, 

''My  name,,  sah's,  John  Murray,"  and  he  took  off  the 
old  hat  which  in  s'ze,  color  and  length  resembled  a  joint 
of  stovepipe,  at  the  same  time  bowing  low  and  bringing 
the  right  foot  backward  with  a  long  scrape  as  a  mark 
of  respect  and  submission.  "An  I  come.  Mars  Lieuten- 
ant, to  de  Yankee  army  to  see  if  enybody  as  wud  like  ter 
take  in  a  big  party  of  niggers  what's  all  tucked  in  wagons 
wid  mules  and  bosses,  an  dars  precious  few  sogers  wid 
em  either,  and  deys  skeered  bad  nuff  to  run  away  if  a 
chestnut  pop  right  loud  at  dey  heels." 

"In  which  direction  from  here,  John,  is  this  train?" 
asked  the  lieutenant. 

"  Oh,  sah,  it's  jis  off  heah  to  de  sunrise,  and  we  kin  trot 
dat  mighty  quick.  Yes,  sah,  dey'U  stay  dah  till  de 
Yankee  dun  clean  gone.  Deys  afeared  to  move  les  dey 
get  kolcht  by  the  Yankee  cabalry.  You  see.  Mars  Lieu- 
tenant, deys  tryin  to  get  us  niggers  fudder  souf  and  we 
don't  keer  to  go ;  we's  too  far  dat  way  now,  bless  yer." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL,  25! 

When  the  march  was  resumed  Lieutenant  Clayton  ob- 
tained permission  of  General  Lane  to  make  a  detour 
from  the  direct  line  with  his  troop  of  cavalry,  and 
under  John  Murray's  skilful  guidance  the  whole  train  of 
over  a  hundred  negroes,  thirty  odd  wagons  and  teams, 
were  captured  without  any  bloodshed.  The  few  stragglers 
from  the  defeated  army  at  Osceola,  who  were  making  a 
pretence  of  guarding  the  train,  fled  precipitately  on  the 
firing  of  the  first  gun. 

Not  a  white  man  could  be  found  in  camp.  "  Everyone 
on  em  gon'd,  all  dun  run  away,  Mars  Yankee,"  said  an  old 
white-headed  man,  who  took  the  lead  in  emerging  from  a 
corral  of  negroes. 

John  Murray  was  soon  espied,  and  a  shout  went  up 
from  the  throng,  and  they  literally  lifted  him  off  his  horse 
and  carried  him  to  the  wagons,  singing  and  shouting 
"  Hallelujah.  Dis  de  Moses  what  com'd  for  the  children 
ob  Israel." 

One  of  the  old  men  who  was  next  in  importance  to  John 
Murray  on  this  plantation,  rode  up  by  the  side  of  Clayton 
on  the  march,  and  said : 

"  Mars  Lieutenant,  I'se  got  a  ole  oman  an  seven  mighty 
likely  boys  an  gals  down  heah  on  the  plantation  by  de 
creek  at  Mars  Lindsay's,  I'd  like  monstrous  well  to  tuck 
em  along  wid  us  ter  freedom." 

"Well,  old  man,  what  is  your  name,"  said  Clayton. 

"  My  name,  sah,  is  Sam,  an  dey  some  times  call  me  Uncle 
Sam,  at  you  sarvice,  Mars  Lieutenant." 

"  Indeed,  no.  Uncle  Sam,  I  am  at  your  service,  now 
more  than  before  I  knew  you  personally,  and  when  I 
only  served  '' Uficle  Sam's  '  cause." 

Then  drawing  his  sword  Clayton  with  utmost  formality 
saluted  Uncle  Sam,  and  bade  him  lead  the  way  to  where 
his  wife  and  the  seven  boys  could  be  found. 

The  white-haired  old  darkey  looked  in  astonishment  as 
he  rode  bare-headed  by  the  officer's  side,  who  finally  ex- 
plained that  all  the  Yankee  army  served  the  United  States, 
which  was  called  Uncle  Sam,  which  he  enjoyed  very 
much. 

John  Murray  rode  up  and  verified  Uncle  Sam's  account 
of  his  family,  adding  that  there  were  a  number  of  other 
colored  people  on  the  same  plantation  who  would  like  to 
go  alons:  "  wid  cle  armv  ob  de  Lord." 


252  THE    STORMY    PETREL.    . 

Crossing  the  creek  at  a  ford  near  by,  and  after  a  sharp 
march  of  an  hour  or  so,  Clayton,  with  his  detachment  and 
colored  guides,  came  to  Colonel  Lindsay's  farm,  and  to 
their  utter  astonishment  saw  quite  a  body  of  cavalry  in 
the  barn-yard. 

Skirmishers  were  deployed,  who  soon  discovered  the 
troops  wore  Uncle  Sam's  blue  livery,  and  a  shout  of  joy 
went  up  from  both  sides,  who  had  been  taken  by  surprise. 

Lieutenant  Clayton  rode  into  the  yard,  where  were 
standing  several  United  States  officers  of  a  Wisconsin 
regiment,  earnestly  talking  to  a  crowd  of  negroes  of  all 
ages.  Li  the  midst  of  the  group  stood  old  Colonel  Lind- 
say, with  his  white  hair  flowing  down  on  his  shoulders, 
a  kind  and  benevolent  face,  with  a  long  staff  for  a  cane  in 
his  hand.  He  was  speaking  earnestly  to  the  slaves,  who 
stood  around  listening  attentively. 

"  You  all  know  I  have  ever  treated  you  kindly,  and  you 
have  fared  about  as  well  as  your  master  ;  you  have  never 
been  required  to  work  when  you  were  not  able  and  were 
well  fed  and  clad.  If  any  of  you  are  anxious  to  leave 
me  you  have  the  opportunity,  for  you  can  readily  under- 
stand I  cannot  resist  this  armed  force." 

"Yes,"  said  a  large  officer,  wearing  a  captain's  straps 
and  uniform,  "  now  is  your  time  if  you  want  your  freedom  ; 
pack  up  your  traps  and  come  right  along.  I  am  d — d  if 
I  leave  a  mother's  son  of  you  that  don't  want  to  stay. 
What  say  you,  old  man  ?  "  he  continued,  as  he  approached 
a  group  of  the  negroes,  who  stood  near  where  Clayton  sat 
on  his  horse,  a  silent  spectator. 

"  Mars  Lindsay  alius  been  kine  to  us,  sah,  and  we 
doesn't  want  to  leab  him,  sah." 

"  There,  I  told  you  so,"  chimed  in  the  colonel.  "  All  of 
these  people  prefer  to  stay  with  me  rather  than  go  with 
you." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  captain.  "  I  have  offered  you 
freedom  and  you  choose  to  remain  in  slavery ;  mount  your 
men,  Sergeant,  and  let  us  go  on." 

Clayton  rode  up  and  saluting,  said  : 

"Captain,  will  you  permit  me  to  manage  this  affair.?" 

"  Certainly  you  may,  Lieutenant.  I  have  done  with  it, 
and  you  may  lake  charge." 

"  Thanks,  I'll  see  what  I  can  do. — Colonel  Lindsay, 
I  believe,"  lifting  his  hat,  as  he    dismounted    and  stood 


THE    STORMY    PETREL  253 

by  the  old  patriarch.  "  My  name  is  Clayton,  and  I 
have  to  ask  that  you'll  step  into  the  house.  I  want  to 
talk  to  these  negroes  away  from  the  presence  of  their 
master." 

"  No,  Mr.  Clayton,  this  is  my  yard,  and  these  are  my 
negroes,  who  have  already  decided  to  remain  with  me." 

"All  right,  Colonel,  I  simply  wanted  to  spare  you  the 
painful  sight  of  their  being  forced  to  leave  you,  and  take 
all  the  available  horses,  teams  and  provisions  on  the 
plantation." 

"  My  God  !  you  are  not  going  to  rob  me,  are  you .'' 
Here's  my  purse,  sir,  but  spare  these  people." 

"  Keep  your  purse,  Colonel  Lindsay,  that's  trash  ;  we 
want  negroes  and  horses  for  Uncle  Sam,"  and  without 
waiting  for  further  reply  he  mounted  ;  then  drawing  his 
sword  he  rode  among  the  negroes,  commanding  with  a 
threatening  attitude  : 

"  Each  and  every  one  of  you  pack  up  in  a  huny  what- 
ever of  clothing  and  other  effects  you  have,  and  leave 
here  in  half  an  hour.  Some  of  you  hitch  up  those  horses, 
mules  and  wagons  ;  get  together  provisions  to  last  a 
month  now,  and  don't  be  long  about  it.  Come  now, 
quick,  we  have  only  a  few  moments." 

Then  such  bustling  around,  with  faces  intended  to  be 
long  and  sad,  but  shining  through  the  very  thin  mist  was 
the  silent  joy  that  like  a  deep  stream  ever  runs  quietly  to 
the  haven  of  repose. 

Colonel  Lindsay  stood  mute  with  astonishment,  and 
the  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks  as  he  saw  evidences  of  glad- 
ness, not  grief,  in  the  faces  of  those  people  who  were  now 
under  the  sword  compelled  to  do  that  which  they  had  re- 
fused when  invited.  The  women  in  the  house  pleaded 
with  those  to  remain  who  had  grown  up  under  their 
charge  in  vain. 

"  Bless  yer  life,  missus,  ef  dat  man  whats  got  dat  knife 
whats  longer  dan  a  fence-rail,  will  only  lem  me  stay  den  I 
will.  But  you  des  see  him  out  dar  like  a  wild  sabbage,  jis 
swarin'  all  ob  us  got  to  go,  and  I'se  afeard,  I  is." 

To  all  appeals  Clayton  was  deaf,  and  the  uniform  an- 
swer was  :  "  No,  ladies,  these  people  must  go  to  Kansas 
and  taste  the  sweets  of  freedom ;  then  if  they  want  to 
come  back  they  will  be  privileged  to  do  so,  but  go  they 
must,  and  that  now," 


254  I'HE    STORMV    PETREL. 

Captain  Sampson  stood  amazed  at  the  alacrity  witli 
which  the  negroes  obeyed  the  command  to  march  to  free- 
dom, and  when  the  caravan  was  under  way,  he  asked  old 
Uncle  Pete  who  rode  along  with  a  smiling  face  through 
which  shone  a  deep  joy: 

"How  is  it.  Uncle,  that  you  refused  my  entreatry  and 
obeyed  so  willingly  the  lieutenant's  command?  " 

"  Well,  yer  see,  sah,  de  old  mars  he  stays  dar  looking 
on,  an  he  see  de  nigger  ob  his  own  will  gwine  away,  an  ef 
he  eber  kotch  him  agin  it  go  jes'  as  hard  on  the  bare 
back  wid  de  cat  es  ef  he  run  away  in  de  night  on  de  un- 
dergroun  road.  An  ef  yer  come  at  a  nigger  wid  freedom, 
stickin'  on  de  pint  ob  a  sword,  like  dat  mad  lieutenant  jis 
now,  and  say,  '  Heah,  nigger,  open  yer  mouf  an  tuck  dis, 
or  I  cut  yer  head  off,'  den  ole  mars  feel  sorry  for  us,  an 
ef  he  kotched  me  agin  he  knowed  de  nigger  could  not 
help  hesef." 

"  Dat's  a  fac,"  put  in  Uncle  Sam,  who  had  been  listen- 
ing to  the  conversation  ;  "  an  den  again  I'se  offen  heard 
de  ole  missus  say  t'want  good  manners  to  say  to  de  gess 
what  at  de  table  :  '  Won't  yer  like  some  ob  de  nice  pre- 
sarbs  what  I'se  got  in  de  pantry? — mighty  nice  jelly  an 
jam  and  pound-cake,  too,  ef  yer'd  like  some.'  No,  sah, 
jis  plump  de  good  tings  down  on  de  plate  right  afore  you 
an  say,  'Take  dis,  now;  it's  good  for  you,  an  don't  make 
fuss  'bout  it  needer.  Now,  dat's  de  way  de  mars  lieuten- 
ant whats  comin  yonder  does  wid  freedom;  he  got  de 
bes  kind  er  manners.  He  gibs  you  taste  ob  it  first,  an 
den  ax  yer  how  yer  like  him,  eh,  Uncle  Pete  ?  " 

"Dat's  a  fac.  Uncle  Sam,"  responded  the  old  man. 

CJayton  rode  up,  and  Captain  Sampson  went  forward 
with  him,  leaving  the  two  old  darkies  to  talk  over  the 
prospects  of  freedom,  that  now  seemed  assured  after  so 
many  years  of  slavery,  with  scarcely  a  spark  of  hope  to 
break  the  thick  cloud  that  had  hedged  them  about  from 
birth  and  promised  them  a  winding-sheet  in  death. 


CHAPTER  LII. 

The  news  of  Claude's  arrest,  which  Claj^ton  had 
learned  from  his  prisoner  the  morning  of  the  battle  at 
Drywood,  was  true.  Confirmation  of  the  story  soon 
reached  him.  Duvall  had  been  aiding  the  escape  of  a 
slave  woman,  it  was  said,  near  Independence,  Missouri, 
and  was  now  kept  there  awaiting  safe  conduct  to  the 
penitentiary  at  Jefferson  City. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  command  at  Kansas  City, 
Clayton  obtained  permission  from  General  Lane  to  at- 
tempt his  rescue,  and  with  a  detachment  of  cavahy,  made 
a  night  march,  reaching  Independence  at  daylight.  In 
a  few  minutes  he  had  surrounded  the  town,  the  jailer 
was  a  prisoner,  and  Duvall  found  himself  in  the  arms  of 
his  friend  and  deliverer. 

"  My  God !  you  are  like  to  an  angel  from  heaven  to 
deliver  me  from  this  place  !  "  exclaimed  he,  gratefully  em- 
bracing Clayton. 

"  Why,  old  fellow,  you  are  a  skeleton  !  How  long  have 
you  been  in  this  foul  den  ?  "  he  asked,  looking  around  with 
a  shudder.  "  Come  out  into  the  sunlight  and  let  me  get 
you  something  to  eat.     You  look  as  if  you  were  starved." 

Claude  was  so  utterly  broken  down  by  many  months  of 
suffering  in  mind  and  body,  that  he  could  not  stand  the 
sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  in  finding  himself  a  free  man, 
and  safe  with  the  friend  he  adored.  He  covered  his  face 
and  sobbed  like  a  child. 

Leaving  the  jailer  and  citizens  to  wonder  as  to  where 
the  force  came  from  or  whither  it  tended,  the  pickets  and 
sentinels  posted  were  called  in,  and  the  line  of  march  for 
Kansas  City  resumed  by  a  different  route  than  the  one 
b}'  which  they  came. 

They  had  not  ridden  very  far  when  a  messenger  on 
horseback  met  them  and  inquired  for  Lieutenant  Clayton. 

'*  I  am  Lieutenant  Clayton,"  was  the  answer,  extend- 
ing his  hand  for  the  dispatch  in  the  hand  of  the  orderly, 
and  quickly  tearing  open  the  paper.     His  face  changed 


256  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

as  he  read.  With  a  deep  frown  and  compressed  Hps, 
he  handed  the  paper  to  his  co^iijDanion,  saying,  "  Duvall, 
read  that." 

"An  officer  from  General  Sturgis  is  on  his  way  to  meet 
you  with  orders  to  return  all  slaves  and  other  property  to 
their  rightful  owners;  Kansas  is  a  safer  place  than 
Missouri  for  these  people.  See  that  you  have  none  of 
them  in  your  command  when  this  order  is  received. 

"L." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  asked  Claude. 

Not  seeming  to  hear  the  question  Clayton  ordered  the 
train  to  be  turned  off  from  the  main  road  into  one  less 
frequented.     Then  he  said  : 

"  Claude  you  must  take  care  of  these  people  ;  I  will  give 
you  a  small  detachment  of  soldiers.  Get  them  safely 
into  Kansas — to  Lawrence,  if  possible." 

Hastily  saying  farewell,  he  pressed  on  with  his  column 
of  cavalry. 

About  a  half  hour  later  the  staff  officer  bearing 
General  Sturgis'  order  came  in  sight.  He  was  a  lieuten- 
ant of  the  Regular  Army,  and  in  parade  uniform.  He 
was  accompanied  in  great  state  by  a  guard  of  troopers, 
and  at  their  heels  were  a  half-dozen  or  more  aggrieved 
slave-owners,  who  had  come  to  claim  their  property. 

Clayton  properly  measured  the  swelling  importance  of 
the  young  officer,  and  was  saying  inwartlly,  "  I'll  make 
short  work  of  this  young  'fuss  and  feathers.'  " 

Bowing  courteously,  he  said,  after  reading  the  order  : 

"Certainly,  if  these  gentlemen  will  point  out  what 
properly  here  belongs  to  them,  I  shall  assuredly  return  it. 
Look  for  yourselves,  gentlemen." 

It  is  needless  to  say,  they  did  not  find  what  they 
sought. 

Disappointed  and  angry,  one  of  them  said  with  an 
insolent  defiance  : 

"  Were  you  at  Independence  this  morning  ?  " 

Clayton  said  very  gravely  :  "  I  must  decline,  sir,  to 
answer  any  questions  concerning  my  duty  here." 

"Oh,  you  may  answer  the  gentleman's  question," 
interposed  the  pompous  little  second-lieutenant,  "it  is  a 
perfectly  proper  one." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  257 

Clayton  turned  and  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in 
silence,  then  said  : 

"Of  course  I  understand  that  I  ;;/(?>' do  so,  but  I  do 
not  choose  to  comply." 

The  young  lieutenant  looked  as  if  he  were  about  to 
burst  with  rage  and  astonishment. 

"  The  devil  you  don't,"  he  blurted  out.  "  Well,  I  am  a 
member  of  General  Sturgis'  staff,  and  I  command  sow  to 
answer." 

"  And  I  decline,"  said  Clayton,  "  to  receive  orders 
from  a  subordinate,"  and  as  he  said  this  he  threw  back 
the  corner  of  his  military  cape,  revealing  one  bar  too 
many  for  the  young  braggart.  "  Besides,"  continued 
Clayton,  eyeing  him  as  if  not  yet  through  with  him, 
"  besides,  I  hold  my  commission  direct  from  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States." 

Then  turning  to  the  men  who  looked  as  crestfallen  as 
their  leader,  he  said  : 

"  Since  we  have  nothing  here  belonging  to  you,  gentle- 
men, I  shall  go  on  at  once,"  and  instantly  the  bugle 
sounded  "  Forward,"  and  the  interview  was  ended. 

But  there  was  to  be  a  sequel  to  the  episode. 

Soon  after  arriving  in  camp  and  whilst  Clayton  was 
reporting  to  General  Lane  the  result  of  his  expedition, 
an  officer  came  in  with  an  order  from  General  Sturgis 
placing  Lieutenant  Clayton  under  arrest  for  disobedience 
of  orders. 

"  This  is  the  officer  you  seek,"  said  General  Lane, 
turning  to  Lieutenant  Clayton,  who  was  sitting  near  by 
and  handing  him  the  order  to  read. 

When  he  had  finished  General  Lane  said  quietly, 
"Lieutenant  Clayton,  you  will  give  me  your  sword  and 
consider  yourself  under  arrest  with  the  liberty  of  the 
camp,  which  includes  the  city." 

Clayton  unbuckled  his  belt  and  handed  his  sword  to 
General  Lane,  who  smiling  said  : 

"We  will  have  a  court-martial  to-morrow  and  the  mat- 
ter inquired  into." 

Then  turning  to  the  aid  in  attendance,  he  said,  with 
mock  solemnity  and  military  air  : 

"Captain,  you  will  report  to  General  Sturgis  that  his 
order  has  been  executed  and  that  I  will  connnunicate  fur- 
ther with  him  in  writins;." 


258  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

Then  with  a  formal  salute  the  captain  took  his  leave. 

On  the  following  day  a  court-martial  was  convened  and 
Lieutenant  Clayton  duly  arraigned  and  pleaded  not 
guilty.  The  Judge  Advocate  proceeded  to  read  General 
Sturgis'  order,  and  put  on  the  witness-stand  the  pompous 
second-lieutenant,  who  when  cross-questioned  by  Clay- 
ton, who  conducted  his  own  defence  aided  by  Colonel 
Anthony,  admitted  that  every  facility  was  afforded  him 
and  the  aggrieved  slave-holders  to  find  their  property  and 
that  none  such  could  be  found  in  the  command.  Wit- 
nesses were  introduced  to  prove  that  Lieutenant  Clayton 
had,  on  that  morning,  broken  open  the  jail  at  Indepen- 
dence, Missouri,  and  taken  therefrom  a  prisoner  convicted 
of  a  heinous  crime  and  also  robbed  the  plantations  of 
several  citizens  of  Missouri  of  fifteen  or  twenty  valuable 
negroes,  several  teams,  horses,  mules,  provisions,  etc., 
which  were  a  part  of  his  command  in  the  morning. 

"  I  protest,  may  it  please  the  Court,"  said  Clayton, 
"  against  the  introduction  of  this  testimony  before  this 
Court,  as  not  being  pertinent  to  the  charge  of  disobedi- 
ence of  General  Sturgis'  order  which  has  been  read  to 
this  honorable  Court.  As  you  are  aware,  neither  the 
charge  nor  any  of  the  several  specifications  allude  to  the 
subject  on  which  this  testimony  is  sought  to  be  intro- 
duced. If  I  am  guilty  of  disobedience  or  transcending 
orders  on  this  expedition,  I  am  accountable  to  General 
Lane,  under  whose  orders  I  was  acting  up  to  the  moment 
I  received  the  order  from  General  Sturgis,  which  forms 
the  basis  of  the  charges  preferred  against  me.  I  ask  this 
honorable  Court  to  rule  out  this  testimony  and  consider 
only  such  as  will  tend  to  show  whether  or  not  the  prop- 
erty alluded  to  in  General  Sturgis'  order  was  under  my 
control  or  in  my  custody  at  the  time  when  this  order 
reached  me ;  and  whether  or  not  I  showed  a  disposition 
to  respect  and  execute  that  order  as  coming  from  my  supe- 
rior officer  in  the  military  service.  If  other  testimony  than 
the  prosecuting  witness  be  needed  to  prove  that  the  order 
was  complied  with  to  the  letter,  I  have  it  at  hand.  You 
will  see  that  I  am  required  to  turn  over  to  these  aggrieved 
parties  such  slaves  and  other  property  as  may  be  with  or 
attached  to  my  command.  If  it  is  not  shown  that  I 
refused  compliance,  then  I  ask  acquittal  at  your  hands, 
and  on  that  I  rest  my  case." 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  259 

The  court  was  cleared  for  consideration  of  the  protest, 
which  resuhed  speedily  in  ruling  out  the  testimony 
offered,  and  the  Judge  Advocate  having  no  other  testi- 
mony, Lieutenant  Clayton  was  acquitted  without  further 
formality,  and  by  General  Lane  placed  on  duty  with  his 
command. 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

Claude  returned  in  a  few  days  and  reported  his  mis- 
sion safely  accomplished.  The  negroes  were  now  on 
free  soil  in  Kansas. 

Now  that  the  two  friends  were  united  once  more,  it 
was  Clayton's  determination  to  keep  Claude  as  near  him 
as  possible. 

"  How  would  3'ou  like  a  lieutenancy  in  my  company }" 
asked  he. 

Duvall's  face  beamed. 

"There  is  a  vacancy.  Wilcox  has  been  obliged  to 
resign  on  account  of  ill-health." 

And  so  it  came  about  that  Claude  found  himself  in  the 
uniform  of  an  officer  of  the  Army  of  the  United  States, 
and  threw  himself,  with  all  the  ardor  of  his  temperament, 
into  the  conflict. 

"  Ah  !  You  all  seem  like  Italians,"  he  said  to  Clayton  ; 
"it  makes  me  to  love  your  countrymen,  to  see  such  a 
splendid  courage,  such  bravery.  Jfo/i  Z)/c-u,  it  is  a  coun- 
try worth  sacrifice  !  But  then,  my  friend,  one  need  not 
be  reckless ;  it  is  enough  to  be  brave,  but  why  shall 
one  go  always  into  the  place  most  dangerous  }  You  do 
not  right,  my  dear  Clayton ;  you  ask  always  for  this  post 
of  danger  or  that — you  make  nothing  of  your  life — and 
you  have  no  right  to  do  this." 

As  Clayton  was  leaving  General  Lane's  quarters  in  the 
afternoon  of  his  acquittal  by  the  court-martial,  he  met 
Dick,  accompanied  by  a  man  too  near  white  to  be  called 
a  negro,  and  yet  so  dark  as  to  be  a  questionable  white 
man.  He  was  one  of  those  squarely-built,  heavy-set  men, 
reminding  one  of  the  cube.  No  matter  what  happens  he 
is  always  the  same  height,  same  proportion,  indeed  come 
good  or  ill  he  is  always  right  side  up.  His  face,  like  his 
form,  was  square,  with  deep-set  eyes  which  beamed  with 
intense  brightness  like  great  lamps  in  a  cavern,  overhung 
with  great  shaggy  brows ;  and  a  chin  and  mouth  in  per- 
fect keeping  with  his  entire  make  up.    With  broad-brimmed 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  261 

black  hat,  his  huge  form  loosely  draped  in  a  suit  of  butter- 
nut jeans,  he  moved  with  the  easy  strength  of  a  colossal 
engine. 

"  Why,  Dick,"  exclaimed  Clayton — "  You  here  .''  I 
thought  you  were  in  Lawrence." 

"Well,  yer  see,  Mars  Frank,"  explained  Dick ;  "this 
here  man's  name  is  Dan  Dickson,  an  so  he  tole  me  he's 
got  a  wife  an  three  children  jis  across  the  river  here  an  he 
has  rund  over  to  see  if  he  can  find  anybody  what  '11  dar 
go  an  bring  um  to  Kansas  an  not  let  em  go  back  'cept 
they  take  all  hands  dead.  An  I  tole  him  what  you'd 
done  for  me,  an  that  you  kinder  use  to  help  Captain 
Brown  an  sometimes  the  captain  had  ter  help  you  in  this 
business,  an  he  said  at  once  I  mus  cum  rite  along  an 
help  him  plead  wid  you  to  get  his  folks  away. — An  now 
Dan,"  said  Dick,  turning  to  this  man,  who  stood  the  while 
with  uncovered  head,  looking  intently  at  the  lieutenant 
who,  though  listening  to  Dick  in  his  earnest  appeal,  was 
none  the  less  studying  the  strange-looking  man  before 
him.  He  was  wondering  how  such  a  combination  of 
physical  and  mental  force  could  be  kept  in  slavery  for  a 
day;  to  say  nothing  of  the  nearly  half  century  this  man 
had  evidently  passed  under  the  yoke. 

"It  is  like  seeing  a  lion  held  in  leading-strings  by 
children,"  mused  he,  "unconscious  that  one  stroke  of  Iiis 
mighty  paw  would  annihilate  the  beings  who  hold  him." 

There  was  a  native  stiengih  and  dignity  about  the  man, 
which  impressed  Clayton  powerfully. 

"  Put  on  your  hat,  Dan,"  said  he,  unwilling  to  receive 
the  homage  of  this  Titan.  "  What's  your  other  name, 
Dan  ? " 

"Well,  sah,"  said  Dan,  speaking  for  the  first  time,  and 
his  voice  like  the  rest  of  him  had  the  characteristics  of  the 
cube.  "  My  ole  mars'  name  was  Lucas  an  lived  in  Wash-" 
ington.  District  of  Columbia,  where  I  were  born,  sah,  but 
dey  alius  call  me  Dan  Webster,  sah.  Caws  he,  dat  mighty 
man,  sah,  used  to  kinder  take  some  notice  ob  me,  when  he 
come  to  see  Mars  Lucas,  and  he  make  me  bring  him  drink 
of  water,  say  he's  goin  to  buy  me  some  ob  dese  days,  an 
have  a  plantation  of  his  own.  An  they  call  me  Dan 
Webster  an  so  it  stuck  to  me  ever  sence.  Then  Mars 
Lucas  he  died,  and  Miss  Mary  she  married  Mr.  Dickson 
of  Missouri,  jis  across  the  river  heah,  an  so  we  moved  to 


262  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

the  ole  plantation,  where  my  wife  an  the  childern  are 
now,  waitin  an  spcctin  me  jis  an}'  night  to  drop  down, 
pick  em  up  and  fly  away  wid  em." 

As  he  ran  on  with  this  family  recital  Clayton  was  watch- 
ing the  man's  face. 

"Extraordinary!"  he  exclaimed.  "  Positively  extraor- 
dinary— Dan,  you  are  well  named.  Do  you  know  you  are 
the  living  image  of  that  great  statesman  ?'' 

But  Dan  was  thinking  about  the  dusky  family  across 
the  river  and  ingeniously  showing  "  Mars  Clayton  how 
very  easy  it  would  be  to  get  a  small  boat — then  on  the 
other  side  turn  to  yonr  left  till  you  cum  to  the  branch " 

"  Well,"  said  Clayton,  good-naturedly,  "Come  along — 
we'll  see  what  can  be  done.  I'm  going  to  take  you  in  to 
see  General  Lane.  But,  listen  to  me.  I  have  a  partic- 
ular reason  for  wishing  you  to  keep  on  your  hat  for  a 
moment  after  we  enter." 

"  But,  Mars  Clayton,"  gasped  Dan,  in  horror.  "  Whar'll 
he  think  my  manners  is  gon  ter." 

"  No  matter,  do  as  I  tell  you,"  laughed  Clayton. 

On  entering,  Lieutenant  Clayton  said  : 

"  General  Lane,  allow  me  to  introduce  Daniel  Webster, 
who  comes  on  an  important  mission  in  which  your  good 
offices  are  solicited." 

The  general  turned  his  eyes  in  the  direction  indicated, 
and  Clayton  amused  himself  by  watching  the  look  of 
amazement  which  spread  over  his  face.  Then  turning  to 
Cla3'ton,  he  said  : 

"  Who  is  this  .''     What  does  it  mean  ? " 

"Take  off  your  hat,  Dan,"  said  Clayton,  and  there  he 
stood  the  absolute  double,  or  alter  ego  of  the  man  for  whom 
lie  was  named. 

"Well,"  said  the  general,  "  that  is  the  most  extraordi- 
nary resemblance  I  ever  beheld.  Why,  positively,  the  fel- 
low frightened  me.     Who  is  he  ?  and  what  does  he  want  ?  " 

"  Just  what  we  all  want  in  this  world,  General,  to  have 
those  he  loves  near  to  him.  His  family  are  just  across 
the  river  yonder,  and  I  think  I  might " 

"That'll  do,"  said  the  general,  with  a  warning  gesture. 
"That'll  do.  No  matter  about  the  details.  Remember,  I 
know  nothing  about  it.  Do  you  hear?  Nothing  whatever, 
^'ou  see  your  friend  Sturgis  might  want  to  know  something 
about  it,  too,"  added  he,  a  humorous  twinkle  in  his  eye,    "  I 


THE    STORJMY    PETREL.  263 

leave  Daniel  Webster  in  your  hands,  Lieutenant,  and — oh, 
by  the  way,  you  needn't  report  to  me  before  nine  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning." 

About  ten  o'clock  that  night  four  men  in  citizens' 
clothes  passed  through  the  lines,  and  went  rapidly  clown 
the  river-bank  where  were  moored  two  old-fashioned 
dugouts  or  canoes.  They  paddled  across  the  river,  and 
quietly  made  their  way  up  the  bank  for  some  distance, 
then  turning  to  the  left,  struck  off  across  the  country  for  a 
mile  or  so.  A  turn  in  the  road  brought  them  directly  in 
front  of  a  large  house,  the  black  outline  of  which  was  all 
that  could  be  discerned  in  the  darkness. 

"That's  Mars  Dickson's  house,"  whispered  Dan,  "An 
you  see  that  clump  of  trees  over  yonder,  that's  where  I 
lives.  I'll  jist  slip  round  to  the  back  an  git  inter  the 
winder — cause  Mars  Dickson,  he  keeps  his  shot-gun 
loaded  an  it's  mity  close  to  my  front  door,  too.'' 

"  Where  are  the  horses  ?  '  said  Clayton,  prudently 
whispering  as  Dan  had  done. 

"  They's  in  the  barn  over  there,"  said  Dan,  point- 
ing, "an  ii"ll  be  mity  ticklish  bizness  gittin  em  out, 
too." 

"The  boys  will  look  after  that,"  said  Clayton,  reassur- 
ingly, "  You  go  in  the  cabin  and  get  your  family  safely 
out.     We'll  see  to  the  rest." 

Going  back  to  where  the  other  two  men  stood,  there 
was  a  short  whispered  conference  ;  then  Clayton  followed 
the  path  he  had  seen  Dan  take  toward  the  group  of  trees 
indicated  by  him. 

A  faint  light  glimmered  somewhere  within.  The  win- 
dow was  open,  and  it  was  evident  Dan  had  mounted  a 
chicken-coop  beneath  it  and  thus  gotten  inside  of  his  own 
domicile. 

Clayton  stood  wailing  silently  and  breathlessly,  dread- 
ing lest  some  sounds  should  come  from  the  barn,  from 
which  the  men  were  removing  the  horses  preparatory  to 
the  flight.  But  he  was  satisfied  they  were  moving  skil- 
fully, as  not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness.  Presently  a 
head  cautiously  appeared  at  the  window. 

"  You  there.  Mars  Lieutenant?" 

"  All  right,"  whispered  Clayton. 

Dan  lowered  first  a  bundle,  cautiously,  then  one  child, 
then  the  mother  with   still   another  in  her  arms  climbed 


264  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

down  upon  the  chicken-coop,  Clayton  speeding  her  move- 
ments from  below  and  Dan  helping  her  as  he  followed 
behind.  Just  as  it  was  all  accomplished,  an  unluckly 
touch  from  Dan  turned  the  button,  and  down  came  the 
sash  with  a  crash. 

All  stood  perfectly  still  for  a  minute,  then  hearing  noth- 
ing, started  fast  as  feet  could  carry  them  toward  the 
barn. 

At  the  distance  of  a  hundred  yards  they  were  com- 
pelled to  emerge  from  cover,  and  as  they  came  in  sight 
there  was  a  flash  and  a  loud  report  from  the  house,  fol- 
lowed closely  by  another,  and  the  buckshot  went  whist- 
ling through  the  air  all  around  them.  The  babe  in  the 
mother's  arms  gave  one  terrified  scream,  but  was  soon 
quieted  by  her  soothing  voice.  Clayton  drew  his  revol- 
ver and  fired  several  shots  at  three  men,  whom  he 
could  distinguish  at  the  door;  then  Dick  and  the  other 
two  men  fired  also. 

Dan  mounted  a  horse,  and  WMth  his  wife  behind  him 
and  a  child  clasped  by  one  arm,  dashed  swiftly  away, 
saying,  "  Follow  me.  Mars  Clayton.  Mars  Dickson 
he'll  go  cross  the  hill  on  foot  soon's  he  finds  the 
horses  done  gone,  and  try  to  git  to  the  crossing  fust. 
You'll  have  to  be  mity  spry."  And  on  he  rushed,  with  his 
family  clinging  to  him  on  all  sides.  It  was  a  desperate 
dash  for  freedom. 

Once  out  of  range  of  the  shot-guns,  they  took  it  more 
easily,  knowing  there  were  no  more  horses  with  which 
to  pursue  them,  and  that  they  were  safe  until  they  met  at 
the  ferry,  where  as  Dan  said,  Dickson  would  certainly 
try  to  head  them  off. 

It  was  just  before  dawn  that  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
river.  The  boats  were  waiting  for  them.  Daniel  placed 
his  wife  in  the  bow  of  the  canoe,  she  still  holding  the 
sleeping  child  in  her  arms.  He  then  passed  the  rope 
halter  of  the  horse  he  had  ridden  to  the  men,  with  in- 
structions to  hold  on  and  let  the  horse  swim  by  the  boat. 
Then  jumping  in  the  stern,  he  pushed  off,  and  Daniel  led 
the  horse  he  had  ridden.  The  other  members  of  the 
party  took  the  other  canoe.  Clayton  plunging  his  horse 
in  rode  over  on  his  back,  whilst  the  other  horses 
were  led  alongside.  They  had  only  gotten  well  into  the 
rapid  current  when   the  loud   report   of  a  gun  was  heard, 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  265 

and  the  bucksliot  splashed  ominously  in  the  water  around 
the  boat.  Clayton  drew  his  revolver  and  responded  to 
the  fire,  as  did  the  other  members  of  the  party.  The 
horse  led  by  the  boy  plunged,  and  came  near  upsetting 
the  boat  as  he  strained  on  the  rope  by  which  he  was  led, 
and  which  had  served  as  a  bridle  also. 

"We  done  git  away  from  dose  shot-guns,  and  now  it 
seems  like  we's  goin  ter  be  drownded,"  said  Dan's  wife, 
whose  courage  was  wellnigh  exhausted.  "Why  didn't 
you  leab  tings  alone  ?  We  wuz  cumftable  enulif,"  said 
she. 

"Now,  Molly,"  said  Dan,  "don't  you  go  and  lose 
your  sperrit.  We've  got  through  the  wust  of  it.  We're 
safe  as  if  we  wuz  home  in  our  own  cabin  now.  Dose 
shot-guns  may  fire  away,  but  dey  can't  reach  you  now, 
honey." 

And  sure  enough,  the  shot  were  falling  far  short  of  the 
fast  receding  boats. 

Dan's  words  had  tlie  desired  effect.  Molly  began  to 
watch  the  proceedings  with  interest. 

"  Take  care  dar,  Charley,"  said  she.  "  Doan  pull  so 
hard  on  de  rope  ;  yers  chokin  ole  Bailey — kotch  him  by  de 
mane — dare  now  !  " 

Dan  was  delighted  at  the  proof  of  reviving  spirits. 

"He  can  help  to  row  us  across,"  said  he,  his  white 
teeth  glistening  in  the  dim  light,  and  the  old  horse  liter- 
ally served  as  more  than  one  horse-jDOwer  to  carry  the 
boat  across. 

At  last  the  opposite  shore  was  reached.  Again  the 
party  was  mounted  somewhat  as  before,  and  proceeded 
toward  camp. 

At  daylight  they  came  in  sight  of  a  little  structure. 
Scarcely  a  house — but  a  shelter  occupied  temporarily  by 
some  Indians,  on  Kansas  soil,  and  Dan  was  informed 
that  he  and  his  were  now  free  and  beyond  the  reach 
of  slavery. 

"I  think  we  had  better  stop  here,"  said  Clayton. 
"  We  can  get  some  coffee,  perhaps,  and,  at  all  events,  can 
rest  for  a  couple  of  hours." 

"'  Clare  to  goodness,"  said  Moll}',  "  ef  I  ain't  so  stiff  I 
can't  hardly  move.  You  take  baby,  Dan.  She's  done 
been  mity  quiet." 

"  Yes,"  said  Dan,  beaming  with  satisfaction  ;    "  and  it's 


266  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

mighty  fortunate,  IMolly,  for  she  mighter  given  a  sight  er 
t rubble  by  makin  a  fuss." 

The  father  took  the  sleeping  child  and  laid  it  down 
carefully,  then  coming  back  for  the  rest. 

"  For  goodness'  sake !  Whar  dis  yere  blood  come 
from  ? "  said  he,  looking  in  puzzled  wonder  at  his  hands 
and  then  at  his  clothes. 

"Must  er  come  from  some  whar,"  said  Molly,  looking 
about.  All  joined  in  the  search  but  found  nothing  and 
she  stooped  and  picked  up  the  baby. 

"Now  I  tink  yer  don  sleep  enuf,  honey,  and  you  bes 
have  some  brekfus." 

She  saw  something  on  the  wraps  about  the  child  which 
hushed  her  crooning  speech.  She  uncovered  the  little 
face  ;  then  giving  a  wild  shriek,  she  let  the  baby  fall  from 
her  arms.  The  child  was  dead  with  a  bullet  hole  through 
the  heart. 

A  little  grave  was  dug  in  a  sheltered  corner,  and  as  the 
sun  mounted  up  toward  the  zenith  a  band  of  sympathizers 
slood  about  it. 

"  Radder  all  ub  us  died  in  slabery  wid  Mars  Dickson 
dan  to  hab  dis  lamb  murdered,"  moaned  the  mother. 

Dan's  eyes  were  moist  with  tears,  too;  but  he  said: 
"  No,  Molly  ;  don't  say  dat.  How  kin  we  tell  what  might 
er  come  to  dis  chile  ef  she'd  bin  took  off  Souf  long  wid 
Mars  Dickson.  De  Lord  he  led  us  dis  way,  an  we  mussen 
be  ongrateful  an  grudge  him  dis  lamb." 

Dick's  heart  was  nuich  touched  by  the  incident,  and  to 
comfort  Dan  he  told  him  during  the  afternoon  on  their 
march  to  Lawrence  about  his  own  troubles — how  wife 
and  child,  too,  were  taken  away,  and  how  much  easier  it 
would  have  been  to  have  laid  them  both  in  the  quiet  earth 
than  to  have  suffered  these  years  of  uncertainty  about 
their  fate. 

"  W/iat  you  say  her  name  is  ?     Martha  ?  " 

"Yes;  Martha  Stanley.  Why,  Dan,  what  makes  you 
look  so  ? " 

"  Well,  I  clare  to  goodness  !  "  said  Dan.  "  I  knows 
her.  Yes,  sah.  I  knows  her — an — I  seen  her,  nigh  about 
six  weeks  ago." 

Dick  seized  his  friend  by  the  shoulder.  "  Dan,  for  de 
Lord's  sake,  you  know  where  my  wife  is — tell  me.  Oh, 
has  the  oood  Lord " 


THE   STORMY    PETREL, 


267 


"  Why,  don  go  on  like  dat,  man,"  said  Dan.  ''Jess  be 
still,  an  I'll  tell  yer,  Yer  see  it's  jess  dis  way,"  and  he 
crossed  his  legs  and  settled  into  a  comfortable  attitude, 
"  Her  missus" — marking  off  on  his  fingers  with  delibera- 
tion— "  is  sister  to  my  missus.  Mars  Dickson's  wife,  an 
last  month — was  it  }  No,  I  reckon  'twas  month  afore 
lass.  Miss  Hall,  she  come  up  to  see  her  sister,  up  to  our 
place,  an  brung  along  Martha  for  lady's  maid,  coz  Martha 
she  mighty  nice  bout  doin  up  hair  an  all  dat ;  so  she 
cum  along  too — an " 

"  Dan,  for  God's  sake  tell  me,  where  is  she.''  " 

"Lor,  how  can  /tell  whar  she  is  in  dese  times  !  Dey 
been  fightin  rite  on  her  Missus'  plantation  nigh  to  In- 
dependence an  I  spec  thur  ain't  much  fixin  hair  an  sech 
fine  doins  noiu,  for  Miss  Hall,  she  done  clare  out  may 
be." 

"Well,  where  do  you  suppose  INIartha  is  .'' " 

"  /  dunno,"  said  Dan.  She  mout  be  took  oiT  down 
Souf,  an  den  agin  she  mouten." 

There  was  not  much  comfort  in  all  this,  and  yet  Dick 
felt  that  he  had  been  nearer  to  her  than  at  all  ;  in  fact, 
six  weeks  ago,  she  had  been  within  ten  miles  of  him.  He 
carried  his  strange  news  and  his  rekindled  hopes  to  his 
new  master,  Duvall,  and,  of  course,  to  Lieutenant  Clayton. 

"  Keep  up  your  courage,  Dick,"  said  the  latter.  "  We'll 
find  your  wife  and  child  ;  keep  a  sharp  lookout  among 
the  refugees,  and  some  day  you'll  see  them  safe  and 
happy." 

Lieutenant  Duvall,  however,  had  his  own  plans  about  the 
matter,  but  kept  quiet  as  to  the  time  and  manner  of  put- 
ting them  into  execution. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

General  Lane  had  received  information  at  headquar- 
ters in  Fort  Scott,  Kansas,  of  the  presence  of  a  detachment 
of  Price's  army  in  Bates  Count}',  Missouri,  engaged  in  re- 
cruiting and  harassing  the  people.  Colonels  Montgomery 
and  Johnson  were  ordered,  each  with  a  detachment  of 
cavalry,  to  make  a  night  march  and  surprise  this  camp  at 
early  dawn  on  the  following  day. 

At  three  a.  m.,  on  a  cool,  starlight  night,  the  column 
halted,  and  a  group  of  officers  held  a  consultation  as  to 
the  best  mode  of  attack.  It  was  decided  to  make  this 
simultaneously,  at  the  faintest  dawn  of  day,  from  two 
opposite  points,  each  under  the  command  of  its  colonel. 

As  the  men  were  separating.  Colonel  Johnson  took 
Clayton  by  the  hand  and  said  : 

"  I  am  sorry,  Lieutenant  Clayton,  you  are  not  going 
with  me,  for  old  Kentucky's  sake  ;  1  would  have  been 
glad  of  your  support." 

"Thanks,  Colonel  Johnson,"'  answered  Clayton;  "I 
should  have  been  glad  to  go  with  you,  but  you  saw  Col- 
onel Montgomery  made  it  a  point  to  have  my  command 
with  him." 

"All  right,  Lieutenant,  see  that  you  do  not  arrive  a  day 
after  the  feast  and  find  the  banquet-hall  deserted." 

"  No  fear  of  that,"  said  Clayton.  "  I'm  not  apt  to  be 
late  in  keeping  such  engagements." 

He  did  not  sleep  at  all  that  night  but,  with  his  com- 
mand mounted,  was  waiting  impatiently  for  the  first  gray 
streaks  of  coming  day,  when  there  rung  out  on  the  still 
morning  air  the  report  of  a  rifle,  from  the  direction  of  the 
enemy's  camp.  Then,  another — and  another — in  quick 
succession,  until  volley  succeeded  volley ;  and  Clayton 
dashed  forward  with  his  company,  under  the  spur,  fol- 
lowed by  Colonel  Montgomery  and  the  rest  of  the  com- 
mand. 

"  By  Heavens  !  "  said  Clayton,  "  he  has  commenced 
the  attack  before  the  dawn  !     What  does  that   mean  ? " 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  269 

Then,  as  he  divined  the  ungenerous  purpose  to  deprive 
Colonel  Montgomery's  command  from  parlicipation  in 
the  engagement,  he  had  a  key  to  Colonel  Johnson's  part- 
ing injunction  to  be  "not  a  day  after  the  feast,  "  and  he 
said  to  himself,  with  a  bitter  smile,  "Ah,  Colonel,  your 
towering  ambition  to  do  alone,  and  claim  for  yourself  the 
honors  intended  for  two,  may  prove  a  dangerous  experi- 
ment sooner  or  later." 

When  the  first  streaks  of  day  shone  on  the  eastern  hori- 
zon Clayton's  troops  went  dashing  down  a  ravine  leading 
to  heavy  timber  to  the  southward,  the  point  where  Col- 
onel Montgomery's  command  was  to  have  been  when  the 
attack  opened,  and  just  in  time  to  intercept  the  enemy's 
rear  guard,  or  retreating  rear  of  the  enemy.  A  brief  skir- 
mish— the  capture  of  a  few  prisoners — and  a  short  pur- 
suit of  the  main  force  into  the  timber,  and  Colonel  Mont- 
gomery's force  returned  to  the  enemy's  abandoned  camp, 
held  by  Colonel  Johnson's  command.  One  of  the  first 
objects  Colonel  Montgomery  and  Clayton  saw,  as  thc\' 
rode  side  by  side,  was  the  dead  body  of  Colonel  Johnson 
lying  where  it  fell,  pierced  by  the  enemy's  bullets,  as  he 
led  the  charge    into  the  very  heart  of  the    enemy's  camp. 

"  He  was  brave,"  said  the  colonel,  looking  at  his  dead 
comrade,  "brave,  but  rash." 

"And  ungenerous,"  was  Clayton's  unspoken  thought. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  tiiis  same  day  Clayton  entered 
his  tent.  Uuvalt  was  there  awaiting  him,  having  been  on 
the  sick  list  and  unable  to  accompany  the  expedition. 

'■'•Man  Dieu  !  what  is  happen  to  you?  You  look  like 
you  are  ill." 

"  Dnvall,  get  me  some  brandy,  please,"  said  Clayton, 
falling,  rather  than  silting,  on  the  chair  near  him. 

His  friend  hastened  to  pour  out  a  wineglass  of  spirits, 
which  Clayton  drank  without  opening  his  eyes. 

"Now,  some  color  come  in  your  face,"  said  Duvall, 
watching  him. 

Clayton  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  at  his  friend. 

"  Duvall,  I  have  had  a  horrible  duty  to  perform,  and 
have  just  come  from  reporting  to  General  Lane.  I  should 
resign, — yes,  I  know  I  should  resign — if  I  thought  1 
should  ever  again  have  to  do  such  a  thing.  Sit  down, 
and  I  will  try  to  tell  you.  As  we  were  coming  home — 
and,  by  the  way,  you  know  Colonel  Johnson  was  shot  ?  " 


270  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

Duvall  nodded,  and  Clayton  went  on.  "Well,  just  as 
we  started  to  return  to  Fort  Scott  our  scouts  brought  in 
nine  prisoners. 

" '  Clayton,'  said  Colonel  Montgomery,  turning  to  me, 
'  I  think  these    men  will  come  under  Fremont's  order.' 

"  '  How  is  that,  sir  ? '   1  answered. 

"  '  Why,  his  order  to  try  guerrillas  by  drum-head  court 
martial,  if  found  carrying  arms.' 

"'But,  Colonel,  these  men  declare  that  they  are  on  de- 
tached service  from  Price's  command  and  are  not  guer- 
rillas at  all.' 

"  He  turned  upon  me   evidently  annoyed,   and  said  : 

" '  That,  sir,  will  be  determined  at  the  court  martial  I 
shall  convene  at  once.' 

"Which  was  done,  and  held,  then  and  there,  as  we  sat  in 
our  saddles.  I  was  terribly  excited,  I  confess,  and  per- 
haps spoke  more  warmly  than  was  my  right.  But,  my 
God  !  there  stood  those  nine  men  imploring — pleading — 
declaring  by  all  they  held  sacred  that  they  were  Confed- 
erate soldiers.  And,  would  you  believe  it,  I  was  the  only 
one  who  befriended  them.  The  decision  was  announced 
and  sentence  passed  in  less  time  than  I  am  taking  to  tell 
you — to  be  executed  as  soon  as  the  soldiers  could  dig  a 
trench  to  put  the  poor  wretches  in.  My  dear  fellow," 
turning  to  Claude,  "I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  give  me 
some  more  brandy."     After  a  moment  he  went  on. 

"Thinking  I  was  their  friend  and  their  only  hope,  in 
desperation  they  clung  around  me,  with  such  harrowing 
appeals — such  faces — my  God,  shall  I  ever  forget!"  and 
he  covered  his  face  as  if  to  shut  it  out. 

"  The  colonel  saw  this,  and  turning  to  me,  he  said 
coolly  : 

"'Lieutenant  Clayton,  you  will  detail  the  firing  part}^, 
and  see  that  the  order  of  the  court  is  executed  at  once.' 

"Think  of  the  malignancy  of  selecting  me  to  execute 
this  order!  And  I  believe  he  hoped  I  would  disobey 
him — and  you  know  what  that  means  in  these  times  and 
in  the  enemy's  country.  "  I  have  long  felt  that  man's  se- 
cret hostility  to  me.  My  God  !  I  believe  I  would  have 
sacrificed  all  hope  of  meeting  the  woman  I  love,  in  this 
world  or  the  next,  to  have  saved  those  men  who  were 
clinging  in  despair  to  my  stirrups  and  bridle.  But  I  tried 
to  remember  I  was  a  soldier,  and  not  a  man  with  a  heart. 


THE    STORMY   PETREL.  27I 

"I  said  :  '  j\[en,  there  is  no  hope.  The  order  must  be 
carried  out.  Prepare  yourselves  to  die  bravely  as  you 
can,  lilce  soldiers.' 

"Then  I  rode  away  while  the  horrible  preparations 
were  being  made. 

"When  I  returned,  a  half-hour  later,  they  were  calm. 
Some  had  written  words  of  farewell  to  their  loved  ones; 
and  I  received  tokens  and  keepsakes  from  their  cold 
trembling  hands,  with  piteous  appeals  that  they  be  sent, 
and  so  they  were,  a  few  hours  later,  by  a  prisoner  who 
luckily  escaped  when  no  one  was  looking. 

"At  the  command,  all  kneeled  on  the  brink  of  that 
long  grave,  and  the  fatal  order  was  given  by  the  sergeant 
in  charge  of  the  firing  party.  All  were  shot,  some  dead  ; 
but  not  without  a  second  volley,  and  with  the  use  of  the 
sabre  were  the  nine  hearts  stilled.  I  know  not  how,  for 
my  eyes  refused  their  office,  and  I  only  seemed  to  see  a 
great  blank  spread  out  before  me. 

"In  less  than  two  hours  from  the  capture,  nine  men, 
still  warm  in  death,  lay  under  the  cold  clods  of  earth  on 
the  prairie,  and  the  accursed  work  was  done.  And  this 
is  the  nineteenth  century,"  added  Clayton  with  bitterness. 

"And  I,  with  instincts  of  humanity  almost  morbidly 
developed, — I  have  been  the  instrument  of  this  horror. 
My  God  !  War  is  more  cruel  to  the  living  than  to  the 
dead." 


CHAPTER   LV. 

The  next  morning  as  the  two  friends  were  at  breakfast 
the  orderly  brought  the  mail.  There  were  two  letters  for 
Clayton  ;  one  from  his  cousin  Kate,  and  another  from 
Petrel.     The  one  from  Kate  was  as  follows  : 

"  My  DEAR  Frank  : 

"  Your  letter  is  most  welcome.  I  am  glad  that 
this  wretched  war  has  served  some  good  purpose 
and  that  you  are  happier  than  when  you  visited  us  last 
year,  upon  your  return  from  California.  My  heart  some- 
times rebelliously  asks  :  Why  are  these  sufferings  laid 
upon  us  ?  Why  is  life  made  so  hard  when  it  might  be  so 
beautiful  ?  But  you  are  brave  and  strong,  and  I  am  con- 
fident, however  thwarted  in  your  wishes,  will  be  able  to 
make  it  rich  and  abundant  in  fulfilment. 

"  I  did  not  intend  to  speak  of  these  things,  having,  in 
fact,  sat  down  to  write  you  upon  another  and  most  agree- 
able subject — that  is,  your  little  ward  Petrel.  I  want  your 
consent  to  have  her  visit  us  during  the  coming  holidays. 
My  little  Katrine  and  she  are,  as  you  know,  frequent  cor- 
res])ondents,  and  I  am  in  love  with  the  child  without  hav- 
ing seen  her.  Her  letters  are  enchanting — so  brimming 
with  humor  and  delicate  sense  of  everything  her  pen 
touches.  How  did  such  a  flower  blossom  within  the  walls 
of  a  convent.''  And  how  does  she  know  so  much,  having 
seen  so  little  .-'  Katrine  was  inconsolable  that  she  could 
not  make  us  the  pormised  visit  last  year  ;  so  now,  I  want 
you  to  promise  tiiat  she  shall  come  to  us  when  the  roses 
bloom. 

"  We  are  not  a  very  gay  household,  with  Bernard  in  the 
army  and  all  the  terrors  and  uncertainties  of  this  horrible 
war.  But  Petrel  will  not  miss  the  gayeties  and  I  am  sure 
will  be  happy  with  us.  She  writes  that  she  is  engaged  in 
hospital  work  much  of  the  time,  with  the  good  Sisters. 
What  an  experience  for  such  a  child  !  It  has  fired  Ka- 
trine with  a  desire  to  do  something  in  that  way  herself ;  but 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  273 

she  has  to  be  content  to  make  bandages  and  scrape  lint 
at  home,  which  we  all  do,  as  you  may  imagine,  to  dress 
the  wounds  made  by  your  dreadful  Federal  bullets  !  Ah, 
my  dear  Frank, — to  fight  with  natural  enemies  is  bad 
enough,  but  to  have  them  of  your  own  household  !  Well, 
you  and  I  could  not  be  arrayed  against  each  other  what- 
ever happens,  and  you  know  how  /  felt  about  that  wicked 
secession  ! 

"  Let  me  hear  from  you  very  soon  that  the  dear  child 
may  come  to 

"  Your  ever-loving  cousin, 

"  Kate.  " 

"  Incomparable,  steadfast  Kate  !  "  said  Frank  to  him- 
self as  he  folded  the  letter.  "  Yes,  Petrel  shall  go  to 
her." 

Then  he  broke  the  other  seal,  and  read  this : 

"  My  dear  Uncle  Frank  : 

"I  have  had  such  a  sweet  letter  from  Katie's  mamma. 
How  lovely  she  must  be  !  And  why  did  /not  have  such 
a  mamma  ?  \\'hat  it  must  be — but — no  matter — no  repin- 
ings.  Have  I  not  the  dearest  of  uncles  ?  And  are  not 
the  Sisters  good  as  angels  .''  Well,  to  return,  Mrs.  Fletcher 
urges  me  to  make  the  visit  which  my  stupid  illness 
cheated  me  out  of  last  year  ;  and  if  you  say  I  may  go — 
why — I  think  I  shall  be  happier — well — happier  than  any- 
one has  a  right  to  be,  with  such  a  dreadful  war  going  on, 
and  with  pain  and  suffering  and  death  all  about  us.  But, 
then,  you  know,  dear  Uncle,  I  have  seen  so  little,  and  am 
wondering, — wondering, — all  the  time  about  that  bright, 
strange  world  beyond  these  walls.  And  now,  if  you  are 
very  good,  and  say  I  may  go,  I  shall  see — and  I  shall  see 
my  friend  Katrine,  to  whom  I  have  been  writing  all 
these  years. 

"Alas!  1  have  s&tn  something  beyond  these  walls. 
But,  oh,  it  is  so  sad  !  But  do  not  object,  dear  Uncle,  to 
my  going  to  the  hospital  with  the  Sisters ;  it  does  me 
good,  I  know  it  does,  to  realize  what  others  suffer;  then 
my  own  little  pains  and  repinings  seem  so  foolish,  I  am 
ashamed  of  them, 

"  I  enclose  a  little  sketch  which  I  hope  may  please  you. 
I  enjoyed  doing  it ;  but  not  so  much,  I  think,  as  my  music. 


2  74  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

Ah,  that  is  my  chief  joy  !  And  perhaps  when  I  get  out 
into  that  distant  world  I  may  hear  some  of  those  wonder- 
ful things  played  and  sung  that  I  sometimes  read  about  in 
the  papers  you  send. 

"  Your  fond  and  loving 

"  Petrel." 

"  What  a  child  she  is  !  "  said  Clayton,  laying  down  the 
letter  and  taking  the  water-color  sketch  to  examine. 

"  Duvall,"  said  he,  "  what  do  you  think  of  that  ?" 

Claude  took  it  and  looked  critically  at  the  paper. 

"What  do  I  think?"  he  said.  "  Why,  I  think  that 
is  the  work  of  a  true  artist.  Look  at  that  distance — at 
that  sky." 

"Well,  that  is  the  work  of  Petrel,  my  ward,"  said  Clay- 
ton with  pride. 

"  Eempossible  !  Eempossible  !  "  said  the  enthusiastic 
Claude.  "  Ah  !  no  !  You  mistake — that  ees  not  the  work 
of  a  child." 

Clayton,  smiled  sadly.  "  She  is  getting  beyond  child- 
hood, Duvall.  I  was  astonished  when  I  saw  her  last. 
She  is  a  woman, — a  beautiful  woman  ;  she  is  not  more  than 
fifteen,  but  she  looks  two  years  older.  It  does  not  seem 
possible,"  he  said,  musing,  "  that  she  is  the  little  creat- 
ure I  held  in  my  arms  fourteen,  yes,  nearly  fifteen,  years 
ago." 

"  Well,  I  am  surprised,  much  surprised,"  said  Claude, 
still  gazing  at  the  sketch.  "  I  have  thought  always  about 
this  being  a  leettle  child — comme  fa,  like  zat" — and  he 
held  up  his  hand  to  show  how  tall  he  had  fancied  her. 

"And  so  she  was  when  you  and  I  first  met ;  but,  my 
dear  fellow,  as  we  have  been  knocking  about  the  world 
she  has  been  growing — behind  those  convent  walls.  And 
she  is  so  clever  in  everything,  so  gifted,"  said  Clayton,  as 
he  strode  to  and  fro  in  the  tent,  "  that,  I  tell  you,  Duvall, 
I  feel  the  weight  of  the  responsibility  in  guiding  this 
young  creature." 

"  It  vv^as  well  you  place  her  iw  that  convent — so  safe. 
'Tis  dreadful  to  see  the  young"  girls  in  this  countree — such 
freedom — such  dangers!     Ah,  you  did  well." 

At  that  moment  Dick,  the  most  respectful  and  punctil- 
ious of  servants,  burst  into  the  tent  without  knocking,  and 
out  of  breath  with  excitement. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL. 


275 


"  Excuse  me,  Mars  Frank  and  Mars  Duvall,  but  she's 
foun — Martha's  foun.  Dan,  he's  foun  where  Miss  Hall 
is   livin — not  more  an  about  ten  miles  from  here." 

"Well,  my  good  fellow,  I  am  rejoiced.  I'll  arrange  to 
make  a  call  upon  that  good  lady  and  you  may  depend 
upon  our  bringing  your  wife  safely  away." 

The  next  morning  an  early  start  was  made  for  the  plan- 
tation, with  a  force  large  enough  to  overcome  any  resist- 
ance from  Livingstone's  Guerrillas,  whom  they  learned 
were  in  the  vicinity  of  Independence,  Missouri.  Dan 
acted  as  guide,  and  presently  pointed  out  a  large  white 
farmhouse  as  the  object  of  their  search. 

Lieutenant  Duvall  was  in  charge  of  the  expedition,  and, 
in  the  midst  of  the  curiosity  and  excitement  caused  by  the 
arrival  of  the  troops,  ascended  the  steps  of  the  porch,  and 
quietly  asked  to  see  "  Mees  Hall,"  his  orderly  standing 
respectfully  near  him  as  he  awaited  the  coming  of  the  lady. 

Presently  Miss  Hall  appeared,  flushed  and  with  ill- 
concealed  nervousness.  She  did  not  ask  him  to  enter, 
but  said,  with  an  attempt  at  frigid  composure  : 

"  To  what  am  I  indebted  for  this  visit  ?  " 

Lieutenant  Duvall,  in  his  most  deferential  manner,  told 
her  in  his  broken  English  that  they  had  come  to  find  a 
colored  woman  named  Martha  Fletcher;  that  they  under- 
stood that  she  was  there,  and  he  desired  to  restore  her  to 
her  husband,  from  whom  she  had  been  stolen  many  years 
before. 

The  shapely  face,  which  w^ould,  under  some  circum- 
stances, have  been  wreathed  with  smiles  of  welcome  for 
this  interesting  foreigner,  grew  more  and  more  frigid  in  its 
lines  as  he  went  on. 

"Then  I  am  to  understand  you  wish  to  purchase  my 
maid,"  she  said,  at  last,  "  and  that  you  have  come  with  all 
this  military  display  to  make  me  an  offer  for  her." 

"  Certainement"  said  Claude,  with  a  twinkle  of  amuse- 
ment in  his  eyes,  as  he  drew  a  Confederate  note  out  of 
his  pocket,  "  if  you  will  do  me  ze  honor  to  accept  a  note 
which  I  will  copy  after  zat,"  pointing  to  the  words,  "  to 
be  paid  one  year  after  the  establishment  of  the  Southern 
Confederacy." 

She  turned  scarlet,  and  then  white  with  anger.  "  I  do 
not  wish  to  part  with  my  servants  upon  any  terms,"  she 
said,  "  and  now,  if  you'll  excuse  me,  I  will " 


276  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

"  Pardon,  mademoiselle,  I  have  a  duty  to  perform,  and 
I  hope  I  shall  not  be  compelled  to  use  ze  force  you  see 
here.  But  your  servants  have  ze  right  now  to  go  or  to 
stay.  Eef  Martha  prefer  to  stay  with  you,  madame,  cer- 
tainement  she  shall  do  so.  I  wish  to  see  her,  and  we  will 
ask  her  what  she  will  do." 

"  Your  insolence  is  as  great  as  your  cruelty,"  said  the 
exasperated  woman.  "  How  dare  you  come  into  my 
house  and  demand  my  servants .''  Have  I  not  suffered 
enough  already  from — "  And  here  she  broke  down  with 
hysterical  weeping. 

Of  course,  there  had  been  plenty  of  witnesses  of  this 
scene,  all  the  servants  hovering  curiously  and  furtively 
about  the  porch. 

Dick,  according  to  the  lieutenant's  instructions,  was 
just  outside  the  grounds  with  the  soldiers.  Suddenly 
there  was  a  cry  and  a  wild  rush  from  the  house.  A 
woman  was  seen  flying,  with  the  speed  of  a  bird,  toward 
Dick,  and  in  another  moment  they  were  locked  in  each 
other's  arms. 

Miss  Hall's  sobs  were  arrested,  and  she  sprang  to  her 
feet  as  she  saw  the  flying  woman,  crying,  "  Come  back, 
come  back,  Martha,  this  instant  !  " 

"  I  tink,  madame,  my  question  ees  answered.  Ze  maid 
will  go  back  wiz  her  husband."  Then  turning  to  his 
orderly,  he  said  :  "  Tell  the  men  to  bring  over  the  trunk 
that  you  report  found  in  the  barn." 

With  an  hysterical  scream.  Miss  Hall  came  rapidly 
toward  him.     "  Would  you  rob  me  before  my  face  .''  " 

In  the  blandest  way  Duvall  explained  that  her  silver 
would,  not  feed  or  clothe  his  soldiers,  and  instead  of  aid- 
ing would  demoralize  their  cause  ;  and,  advising  her  not 
to  risk  such  valuables  by  keeping  them  hidden  in  the 
barn,  had  the  trunk  safely  deposited  in  the  house,  and 
then,  with  respectful  courtesy,  withdrew,  and,  a  few  hours 
later,  was  giving  Clayton  a  humorous  account  of  his  in- 
terview with  "  Mees  "  Hall. 

The  grave,  olive-skinned  woman,  with  sad,  serious 
eyes,  Dick  led  in  by  the  hand,  was  not  the  Martha  he  re- 
membered ;  still,  there  was  enough  remaining  of  the  old 
look  to  assure  Wm  it  was  indeed  she, — the  poor  girl,  who, 
like  Hagar,  went  off  with  her  child,  and  then  disappeared 
as  utterly  as  if  the  earth  had  swallowed  her. 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  277 

"  And  your  baby,  Martha  ?  "  said  Clayton.  "  Where  is 
she  ?     Is  she  living  ?  " 

"Oh,  Mars  Frank,  I  don't  know,  but  my  belief  is  she 
was  drowned  in  the  river  of  ice  by  that  cruel  man  who 
got  us  away  from  Mars  Harry  Barnes." 

Frank's  face  turned  ashy  pale  as  she  said  these  few 
words,  which  connected  the  two  mysteries  by  this  missing 
link — Martha's  disappearance  and  the  finding  of  Petrel. 
So  simple,  and  yet  he  had  never  thought  of  it  before  ! 
But  what  a  solution  !  My  God,  what  is  to  be  done  ? 
These  were  the  thoughts  that  sped  swiftly  through  Clay- 
ton's mind. 

He  soon  kindly  dismissed  Dick  and  Martha  on  the 
plea  of  urgent  business,  telling  her  he  wished  to  see  her 
again  in  the  morning.  Then  he  took  counsel  with  him- 
self, as  he  paced  the  floor.  What  must  he  do?  Go  to 
that  sensitive  child  and  tell  her  she  was  the  daughter  of  a 
slave?  Tell  her  that  the  mother  for  whom  she  had 
so  longed  had  been  found,  and  she  is  none  other  than  this 
humble,  faithful  daughter  of  a  despised  race  ?  He  could 
not  do  it.  And  yet  what  right  had  he  to  deprive  this 
mother  of  her  child  ?  For  hours  he  thought,  and  at  last 
came  to  this  determination  :  He  would  tell  Martha  all, 
and  let  her  decide. 

His  eye  fell  upon  Kate's  letter,  still  lying  on  his  desk. 
"  Of  course,  she  must  not  go  there  ;  that  is  out  of  the 
question  now.  Well,"  he  thought,  "  it  need  not  be  an- 
swered at  once,  and,  in  the  meantime,  I  can  frame  ex- 
cuses for  not  allowing  the  child  to  make  the  proposed 
visit." 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

It  was  with  a  heavy  heart  that  he  sent  for  Martha  the 
next  clay.  He  had  a  strange  and  dehcate  task  before 
him,  and  how  should  he  perform  it  ? 

"  Now,  Martha,"  he  said,  when  she  came,  "  I  want  you 
to  sit  down  there  and  tell  me  just  how  you  lost  your  little 
girl ;  I  hadn't  lime  yesterday  to  ask  all  I  wanted  to  know 
about  it." 

She  sat  down  obediently  on  a  camp  stool  he  pointed  to, 
and  began,  in  a  soft,  musical,  contralto  voice. 

Clayton  sat,  his  eyes  fixed  immovably  upon  her  face,  as 
she  told  the  story.  Every  incident  of  the  scene  was  pre- 
cisely as  he  witnessed  it  that  winter  morning  fifteen  years 
ago.  There  was  no  room  for  doubt ;  she  was  the  mother 
of  his  ward. 

"  Martha,"  he  said,  "  you  must  prepare  yourself  for  a 
surprise.  Your  little  girl  was  not  drowned;  she  came 
safe  into  my  arms  when  that  brute  tossed  her  away." 

Martha  was  at  his  feet,  the  tears  streaming  down  her 
face.     "  Oh,  my  God  !     At  last !     At  last  !  " 

Clayton  took  away  the  hand  she  was  kissing  and  raised 
her. 

"Sit  there,"  he  said,  "and  when  you  are  ready  I  will 
tell  you  the  rest ;  there  is  much  more  to  be  said  when  you 
can  hear  it." 

She  did  as  she  was  told,  and  fixed  her  eyes  eagerly 
upon  him  as  he  went  on. 

"  She  has  been,  since  she  was  six  years  old,  in  a  con- 
vent in  Kansas,  where  she  has  received  an  education  ; 
has  studied  music  and  painting;  so  she  is  now  no  longer 
a  child,  but  a  beautiful  and  accomplished  young  girl,  fitted 
for  the  highest  station  in  life." 

A  pained,  bewildered  expression  began  to  mingle  with 
the  joy  which  had  a  moment  ago  illumined  the  melancholy 
face. 

"  Of  course  she  will  cling  to  you  and  love  you  for,  her 
heart  is  of  gold ;  but,  I  tell  you  frankly,  Martha,  it  will 


THE    STORMY    PETREL. 


279 


make  a  great  change  in  her  future  when  she  learns  that  the 
blood  of  a  slave  is  in  her  veins." 

Martha  gazed  now  with  a  pitiful  intensity  at  the  speaker ; 
tears  unwiped  rolling  down  her  face. 

"  Now,  my  poor  girl,"  he  went  on,  "  I  have  told  you  the 
truth.  I  place  your  child  in  your  hands  to  do  with  her 
as  you  think  best ;  I  have  no  right  to  influence  or  to  ad- 
vise." 

"  Mars  Frank,"  said  she,  in  a  low  voice,  "  she  never 
must  know  it.  Why  should  /come  into  her  life  to  spoil 
it,  after  the  Lord  has  done  so  much  for  her — and  for  me  ? 
If  I  can  Jtrher  sometimes,"  she  said,  looking  at  him  tim- 
idly, as  if,  perhaps,  she  were  asking  too  much,  "if  I  might 
see  her !  " 

Clayton  felt  touched  by  the  divine  patience  of  this 
woman  and  grasped  her  by  the  hand, 

"You  are  an  heroic  woman,  Martha.  See  her?  Yes, 
you  shall  see  her,  and  you  shall  live  with  her.  Now,  I 
will  tell  you  what  I  have  been  thinking.  Petrel  needs  a 
maid,  and  will  always  need  one,  being  so  alone ;  you  shall 
occupy  that  position.     Would  you  like  that  ?  " 

"Oh,  Mars  Frank,  how  can  you  ask  me  ?  Wouldn't  it 
be  like  Heaven  to  me  ? " 

And  so  it  was  arranged  that  he  would  at  once  write 
Petrel  that  Martha,  Dick's  wife,  had  been  found,  and  was 
going  to  be  in  the  future  her  maid,  or,  if  need  be,  nurse. 
"And  then  next  week  I  will  take  you  there  myself,"  he 
said. 

Dick  was  not  forgotten  in  this  arrangement.  Clayton 
promised  that  some  occupation  should  be  found  for  him 
too  in  the  vicinity  of  his  wife. 

Frank  Clayton  procured  the  necessary  leave  of  ab- 
sence, and  arrived,  with  Martha,  late  one  evening  at  the 
Mission. 

He  thought  it  best  to  see  Petrel  at  first  alone  and  pre- 
pare the  way  for  the  meeting  between  the  two.  She  re- 
ceived him  with  the  usual  enthusiastic  greeting. 

"What  a  dear,  darling  uncle  you  are,  to  think  of  giving 
me  a  maid  !  Do  you  know,  I  think  I  must  be  a  wonder- 
fully good  person  not  to  be  spoiled  by  so  much  petting," 
and  she  gave  him  the  prettiest  little  mouth  to  kiss ;  and 
then  when  he  answered  "  And  so  you  are,"  such  a  gay 
little  laugh  rang  through  the  room,  and  she  said  :  "  That 


28o  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

shows  how  little  you  know  about  me.  Why,  I  suppose 
I'm  the  naughtiest — you  ought  to  see  me  one  of  those 
days  when  I  have  what  Sister  Agatha  calls  my  '  tafi- 
trums.'  Oh,  by  the  way,  of  course  I  am  going  to  Lucas- 
ton — though  you  did  not  say  so,  you  bad  uncle  !  " 

"  Time  enough,  my  dear  child  ;  we  cannot  settle  every- 
thing in  one  half-hour." 

"  Uncle,"  said  she,  confidentially,  "  I  want  to  tell  you 
something,  of  an  experience  in  dreams.  Do  you  know 
there  is  a  very  strange  dream  which  comes  to  me  at  inter- 
vals, and  always  just  before  something  happens." 

"  Naturally,"  said  Clayton,  "  as  something  happens 
about  every " 

"Now,  clon't  be  scornful  and  unbelieving,  or  I'll  not  tell 
you  ;  and  it's  very  interesting." 

"  Well,  go  on,"  said  he,  with  an  amused  laugh. 

"  The  dream  is  always  the  same.  There  is  a  river  full 
great  cakes  of  ice — and  noise  and  confusion — and  I'm 
afraid — I  do  not  know  of  what — and  a  face  so  loving  and 
tender  looks  into  mine,  and  I  feel  safe  in  a  moment." 

Frank  listened  speechless  with  surprise. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  what  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"  I  think — it  is  very  strange,"  said  he,  "but — now,  don't 
you  want  to  see  your  new  maid  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed  I  do." 

A  moment  later  he  returned  with  Martha. 

Petrel  uttered  a  little  scream. 

"Why,  Uncle,"  said  she,  trembling,  and  holding  tightly 
his  hand,  "  it  is  the  face  in  my  dream  ?  " 

"  Nonsense,  child,"  said  he,  drawing  her  toward  the 
woman,  who  was  standing  as  if  petrified,  gazing  at  the 
beautiful  young  girl. 

"Martha,"  said  he,  "this  is  the  young  lady  you  are 
going  to  take  care  of;  see  that  you  keep  her  safe  and 
happy." 

Petrel  took  her  hand  kindly  in  her  own,  as  she  said 
shyly,  "  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come,  Martha,  and  so 
glad  they  have  found  you  after  all  these  years.  And  you 
never  found  your  little  girl?" 

Martha  could  only  shake  her  head  in  reply. 

"  Well,  no  matter,"  said  Petrel  soothingly,  stroking  her 
hair;  "you  mustn't  feel  unhappy  any  more,  for  /am  your 
little  girl  now," 


THE   STORMY   PETREL. 


"Oh  !  thank  you  thank  you,  for  saying  those  words  !" 
said  Martha,  and  she  clasped  lovingly  the  hand  she  pas- 
sionately kissed. 


CHAPTER  LVII. 

The  following  morning  Petrel  went  with  her  uncle  to 
the  hospital.  "  I  spend  two  hours  there  every  morning," 
she  said,  as  they  were  on  the  way.  "  Sister  Agatha  goes 
with  me,  and  I  have  learned  to  do  so  many  things ;  I 
assure  you,  Uncle,  I  am  quite  a  good  nurse.  I  do  not  go 
into  the  very  sick  wards,  you  know;  Sister  Agatha  will 
not  permit  that." 

"  Well,  how  do  you  like  your  new  maid  ?  "  asked  Clayton, 

"  Uncle,  she  is  perfectly  lovely.  This  morning  when 
she  came  in  to  awaken  me,  she  opened  the  blinds  and  the 
sun  streamed  in  upon  her,  and  she  looked  so  happy,  why 
she  was  really  beautiful.  And  do  you  know  what  I  did  ? 
I  jumped  out  of  bed  and  ran  and  put  my  arms  about  her 
and  kissed  her.     I  couldn't  help  it, 

"  You  know,"  she  went  on,  "  her  little  girl  would  have 
been  just  my  age,  and  I  suppose  that  is  why  she  felt  so 
yesterday  when  she  saw  me  ;  but  I  am  going  to  make 
her  so  contented  she  will  forget  all  her  sorrows.  You 
don't  know  how  startled  I  was  by  her  resemblance  to 
the  face  in  my  dream.  Of  course,  as  you  say,  it  was  only 
a  fancy. 

"  Here  we  are,"  concluded  she.  "  How  short  the  walk 
has  been  !  " 

One  of  the  surgeons  was  coming  out  of  the  gate. 
Clayton  stopped  and  introduced  himself,  asking  him  about 
the  patients,  to  which  commands  they  belonged,  etc. 

"  Most  of  them  are  doing  very  well,"  said  he,  "  but  a 
Confederate  officer  was  brought  in  last  evening,  very 
badly  wounded,  and  he  died  in  the  night.  He  was 
brought  with  other  wounded  soldiers  from  the  battle  near 
Si.  Joe  two  days  ago." 

"  Do  you  know  who  it  was  ?  "  asked  Clayton, 

"No,"  answered  the  doctor;  "I  did  not  learn  his 
name. 

They  passed  in.  Petrel  with  a  feeling  of  awe  at  being  so 
close  to  death,  never  having  been  in  that  awful  presence, 


THE   STORMY   PETREL. 


2«3 


"You  stay  here,  my  dear,"  said  he,  placing  her  with 
one  of  the  Sisters,  *•  and  I'll  go  and  inquire  about  this 
Confederate  officer." 

The  sheet  was  withdrawn  to  show  him  the  dead  man's 
face,  when  he  uttered  an  exclamation  of  horror. 

"  My  God  !     It's  Bernard  Fletcher!  " 

After  some  time  he  returned  to  Petrel. 

"  Uncle,  what  has  happened  .-'     You  are  pale." 

"  Yes,  my  darling,  I  have  had  a  shock.  Petrel,  the 
officer  who  died  last  night  is  Colonel  Fletcher — your  little 
friend  Katrine's  papa." 

Petrel  burst  into  sobs  and  tears,  exclaiming  : 

"Oh,  my  poor  Katie  !  What  will  she  do  I  and  how  will 
dear  Mrs.  Fletcher  ever  bear  it  !  " 

"Uncle,"  said  slie,  after  she  grew  calmer,  "may  I  not 
see  him  ?     Please  let  me  ?  " 

Frank  Clayton  looked  at  the  child  strangely  as  she 
asked  this  question ;  he  seemed  to  be  debating  with  him- 
self what  he  should  do.     At  last  he  said : 

"Yes,  you  may  see  him  :  come  with  me." 

Petrel  trembled  as  the  handsome,  stern  face  was 
uncovered,  and  her  eyes  were  held  with  a  mysterious 
fascination.  She  was  thinking  unutterable  things — of 
Katrine's  grief  when  she  should  look  upon  that  man  who 
looked  so  like  a  dead  prince  ;  she  was  thinking  how  she 
should  feel  if  she  were  looking  upon  her  dead  father  ! 

"Come  away,"  said  Clayton,  taking  her  hand. 

"  One  moment,"  said  the  girl,  and  loosening  a  white 
rosebud  from  her  breast,  she  placed  it  in  the  dead  hand, 
and  turned  away  weeping. 

"  My  dear  child,"  he  said,  "  we  must  go  right  back  to 
the  Mission.  Of  course  I  must  go  with  the  remains  of 
Colonel  Fletcher  to  Lucaston  and  break  the  news  to  his 
family."     And  they  returned  in  silence. 

Clayton  asked  to  see  Martha  alone,  to  give  her  some 
parting  instructions  about  her  duties. 

"  Martha,"  he  said,  closing  the  door,  "  a  very  strange 
thing  has  happened.  Colonel  Bernard  Fletcher  died  last 
night  at  the  hospital.     We  have  just  seen  him." 

"  My  God !  "  said  the  woman,  clasping  her  hands,  as  a 
deadly  pallor  spread  over  her  face,  but  with  a  strange, 
hard  look  in  those  dry  eyes.  "Did  she  see  him,  sir.?" 
asked  she,  in  a  low  voice,  significantly. 


284  1'HE   STORMY   PETREL. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Clayton  ;  "  he  did  not  deserve  it,  but 
I  thought  perhaps  it  was  as  well  ;  and  she  placed  a  white 
rosebud  in  his  hand.  Now,  I  must  go  with  the  remains 
to  Lucaston  ;  and,  Martha,  take  care  of — your  charge. 
She  is  much  overcome  by  what  she  has  seen  and  by  her 
sympathy  for  her  friends  ;  so  watch  her  carefully." 

"  Ah  !  Mars  Frank,  the  Lord  seemed  so  cruel  for  so 
long — and  now,  how  good,  how  jusf  He  is  !  " 

Frank's  unspoken  answer  was,  "  Yes;  'the  mills  of  the 
gods  grind  slowly,  but  grind  exceeding  fine.'  '■* 


chaptf:r  lviii. 

Throughout  all  the  exciting  incidents  just  related, 
Frank  Clayton  never  for  one  moment  forgot  his  own 
deep  unhealed  wound.  As  he  consoled  Kate  and  her 
daughter  over  the  open  grave  of  Bernard  Fletcher,  he 
saw  always  before  him  that  grave  wherein  he  had  buried 
the  dearest  hope  in  his  own  life.  "  Flowers  will  blossom 
upon  this,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  looked  at  the  fresh 
clods  of  earth,  "but  upon  that  other — never."  He 
should  never  love  again,  nor  ever  cease  to  love  Isabel 
Priest. 

His  gentle  cousin  Kate  had  her  own  unhealed  wound, 
as  he  well  knew;  she  had  buried  her  ideal  fifteen  years 
ago,  and  had  ever  since  been  trying  to  adapt  herself  to 
the  real.  She  had  never  loved  her  husband  as  much 
since  that  fatal  discovery  as  novi^,  when  she  looked  upon 
him  as  Petrel  had  seen  him  at  the  hospital,  clothed  in 
the  silent  beauty  and  majesty  of  death;  and  for  the  first 
time  from  her  heart  gave  him  a  kiss  of  forgiveness  and 
peace. 

When  this  sad  task  was  over,  Frank  returned  to  his 
duties.  He  dreaded  the  opportunity  to  think — to  dream 
over  the  letters  which  came  from  Roland,  trying  to  read 
between  the  lines  more  than  was  said  of  his  beloved.  Ah  ! 
how  many  times  in  the  silent  night  did  he  live  over  those 
last  interviews — recall  the  sound  of  her  voice  when  she 
uttered  the  words  for  which  his  soul  had  been  thirsting ! 
And  when  he  realized  it  was  to  be  nevermore,  he  would 
dress,  go  out  under  the  stars  and  strive  to  become 
patient  and  calm. 

He  often  thought  how  easy  it  would  have  been  to  say 
the  words  which  would  have  removed  all  obstacles. 
They  were  simple  to  utter;  thousands  repeated  them 
every  day  and  Sunday  too  without  thinking,  or  much 
caring,  what  they  mean.  Why  should  he  be  so  scrupu- 
lous ?  But  that  was  a  price  he  could  not  pay,  even  to  win  her. 
He  could  not  perjure  himself  by  seeming  to  acquiesce 
in  humanly  constructed  dogmas.     Not  even  for  the  bliss 


286  THE    STORMY    PETREL 

of  possessing  the  woman  he  adored  could  he  pretend  to 
comprehend  the  mysteries  of  the  Great  Creator,  The  One 
First  Cause,  nor  yet  the  full  measure  of  the  Law  of  Laws. 
How  could  he  claim  to  know  the  plans  and  designs  of 
the  Supreme  Being  regarding  the  human  race  ?  He,  a 
mere  atom  in  an  ocean  of  mist  and  mystery — should  he 
say  what  are  the  attributes  of  the  Mighty  Unknown  ? 
Should  he  attempt  to  define  its  limits  and  its  nature, 
whether  it  be  three  in  one,  or  one  in  three,  or  in  fact  say 
whether  it  exist  separate  and  apart  from  its  work  at  all? 
Others  might  do  this  if  they  could ;  but  for  him,  he 
must,  at  any  cost,  be  faithful  to  his  own  convictions — be 
they  beliefs,  or  unbeliefs. 

He  longed  for  action,  something  more  stirring  than 
being  upon  the  outskirts  of  a  great  conflict;  and  cS.  few 
months  later  received  the  orders  for  which  he  had  asked 
and  hoped.  An  active  campaign  was  laid  out  for  the 
army  corps  to  which  he  was  attached,  and  he  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  command  of  a  regiment  of  colored  troops 
which  he  had  been  chiefly  instrumental  in  creating,  the 
Government  having  at  last  seen  the  wisdom  of  this  once 
unpopular  measure.  This  separated  him  from  Duvall, 
which  was  a  source  of  regret  to  both. 

In  that  last  private  interview  with  Isabel,  just  before 
leaving  "  Eagle's  Nest,"  Frank  had  received  from  her  a 
little  packet,  covered  with  chamois-leather,  and  attached 
to  a  fine  gold  chain.  This  she  placed  about  his  neck, 
exacting  from  him  a  solemn  promise  never  to  remove  nor 
to  open  it.  "It  is  an  amulet,"  she  had  said,  smiling 
through  her  tears,  "  and  its  charm  will  be  lost  if  you 
understand  it."  Much  as  he  longed  to  know  its  contents, 
Frank  would  not  for  the  world  have  broken  his  pledge  to 
keep  it  inviolate.  He  would  have  ample  need  of  its  pro- 
tecting power  now  ;  and  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  exultation 
that  he  found  himself  in  one  of  the  fiercest  centres  of  the 
desperate  conflict. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  now  I  have  an  opportunity  to  do, 
and,  perhaps,  to  die  !  " 

Kissing  the  amulet,  he  added  : 

"  You  can  do  nothing  better  for  me  than  that,  my  little 
friend  ;  only  let  my  life  accomplish  something  for  my 
country  first — then — adieu,  green  fields  and  sunshine  and 
elusive  joys,  forever  !  " 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  287 

The  fact  that  the  Confederates  showed  no  mercy  to  the 
negro  soldiers  or  their  officers,  made  this  arm  of  the 
service  a  desperate  one  ;  and  this  had  strongly  influenced 
Clayton  in  attaching  himself  to  it.  There  were  no 
branching  roads  ahead,  leading  to  prison  or  hospital — 
only  one  highway,  which  led  to  Victory — or  Death. 


CHAPTER  LIX. 

"Fort  Leavenworth  Hospital,  Dec.  20,  186-. 

"  My  Dear  Uncle: — 

"Your  letter,  with  kind  permission  for  me  to  come 
here  witii  Sister  Agatha,  was  received,  and  so — here  I  am 
— in  the  dress  of  a  novitiate,  with  partial  charge  of  a 
ward.  I  like  it  so  much  better  than  the  desultory  work  I 
did  at  home,  although  the  experience  obtained  there  is 
most  valuable  now. 

"Who  do  you  think  was  brought  here  this  morning? 
Your  friend.  Lieutenant  Duvall  ;  and,  strangely  enough,  he 
was  placed  in  our  ward.  He  is  seriously,  though  not 
dangerously,  wounded,  and  was  in  a  half-unconscious 
state  all  day.  You  may  imagine  with  what  interest  I 
regarded  him,  knowing  how  great  was  your  friendship  for 
him.  I  will  keep  this  letter  open  and  add  anything  which 
there  may  be  to  tell  you  concerning  him. 

"  My  dear,  faithful  Martha  has  rooms  near  the  hospital, 
and  watches  me  as  if  /were  a  patient,  doing  a  thousand 
things  for  my  comfort.  She  is  certainly  an  angel!  She 
brings  a  basket  of  flowers  every  morning,  which  I  place 
where  they  will  gladden  the  eyes  of  my  poor  patients. 
But  do  not  suppose  this  is  all  I  do;  I  really,  in  my  poor 
way,  am  useful.  Oh  !  my  dear  Uncle,  it  is  solenni  and 
awful  to  be  near  so  much  suffering.  I  know  it  makes  my 
soul  grow  and  expand,  and  I  thank  God  for  giving  me 
this  experience.  I  might  not  in  years  have  learned,  as  I 
now  have,  all  the  bitterness  and  sorrow  which  life  holds 
for  some. 

"  There  is  a  Confederate  officer  here,  who,  I  think,  will 
die,  and  he  will  scarcely  let  me  be  out  of  his  sight.  He 
is  a  foreigner — a  Captain  De  Montholon — and  he  says  I 
remind  him  of  his  daughter  Flora.  He  has  had  some 
terrible  trouble  in  his  life,  and  when  he  fixes  his  great  sad 
eyes  upon  me  it  fills  me  with  such  pity  and  such  longing 
to  comfort  him  ;  and  yet  I  know  not  what  to  do,  and  can 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  289 

only  make  his  pillow  easier  and  brighten  him  with  flowers 
and  sunshine.  But  what  is  that  to  a  sick  soul?  I  think 
if  he  could  talk  of  his  trouble  and  of  those  he  loves,  that 
would  be  better  than  all  the  doctor's  medicines.  I  shall 
try  to  lead  him  to  do  this. 

"  Dec.  22nd — Lieutenant  Duvall  is  better,  but  extremely 
weak;  his  right  arm  is  broken  and  he  is  otherwise 
severely  injured,  but  is  very  patient,  and  the  doctor  thinks 
will  do  well  unless  fever  sets  in.  He  will  talk,  and  that 
is  bad  for  him.  When  he  found  out  my  name — well,  you 
should  have  seen  him  !  He  knew  at  once  I  must  be 
your  little  girl,  of  whom  he  had  heard  so  much,  and  woukl 
have  asked  fifty  questions  if  I  had  let  him  ;  but  I  am  very 
strict,  and  as  he  cannot  help  himself,  he  has  to  be 
good. 

"  Captain  De  Montholon  is  ver)^,  very  ill  ;  he  is  delirious 
at  night  and  talks  of  Italy — of  Flora — and  of  Claudius,  his 
son — and  of  some  one  he  calls  Orsyna,  or  something  like 
that;  he  speaks  in  half-Italian  and  half-English,  so  I 
cannot  make  out  anything  connected  ;  but  I  know  it  is 
grief — terrible  regret  at  something  in  his  past  which  is 
eating  away  his  life  more  than  his  wounds.  Whether  he 
has  suffered  wrong,  or,  what  is  worse  yet,  committed  it, 
God  only  knows. 

"I  will  send  this  without  anything  further  now,  but  will 
write  in  a  day  or  two  again,  knowing  how  anxious  you 
will  be  about  your  friend.  Lieutenant  Duvall. 

"  Most  lovingly, 

"  Petrel." 

The  second  day  after  Claude  was  admitted  to  the  hos- 
pital he  awoke  from  a  long,  refreshing  sleep,  just  as  the 
sun  was  setting,  and  its  slanting  rays  gilded  in  burnished 
gold  every  article  in  his  room  ;  the  plain  pine  table,  with 
cups  and  spoons,  the  chair,  the  hospital  cot  on  which  he 
lay,  with  its  coarse,  strong  and  white  covering,  all  swam 
in  the  liquid  golden  light  that  literally  flooded  the  room, 
which  by  some  mysterious  process  seemed  to  multiply  and 
beautify  all  things  as  he,  with  only  partially  opened  eyes, 
looked  down  the  long  row  of  cots  with  their  burdens  of 
patient  sufferers.  In  this  almost  ecstatic  state,  he  let  his 
mind  drift  backward,  to  a  point  sufficiently  distinct  and 
tangible  on  memory's  tablet  to  form  a  starling-place  from 


290  THE   STORMY   PETREL, 

which  he  could  take  reckoning  and  determine  his  pres- 
ent whereabouts — whether  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body, 
he  could  not  tell.  Certainl}'  nothing  in  the  flesh  had  ever 
seemed  to  him  as  lovely  as  that  fair  creature  who  softly 
passed  and  repassed  before  his  bewildered  vision.  Some- 
times it  seemed  as  if  she  were  Flora,  his  sister,  and 
again  some  fairy,  he  knew  not  who.  Then  his  mind 
drifted  back  to  his  home  ;  he  saw  his  mother,  as  she  took 
him  in  her  arms  that  morning  long  ago  and  told  him  that 
his  father  had  gone ;  that  in  a  quarrel  with  his  best  friend 
he  had  been  dashed  by  a  storm  of  passion  upon  the  fatal 
reefs  of  what  he  believed  to  be  a  deadly  duel,  and  had  fled 
to  America,  taking  with  him  money  which  he  held  in  trust 
for  another.  He  saw  his  mother's  uplifted  eyes  as  she  de- 
clared before  God  she  believed  his  father  was  innocent  of 
intended  wrong  in  betraying  the  trust ;  he  heard  her  voice 
trembling  with  feeling  as  she  said  :  "You  must  find  your 
father,  my  boy.  God  knows  I  can  ill  spare  you  now,  but 
you  must  go  and  bring  him  back  to  us  ;  tell  him  my  own 
fortune  shall  go  to  pay  the  money.  I  give  it  willingly. 
What  is  that  to  give  if  it  will  bring  him  back!  Tell  him 
all  will  be  forgotten,  if  he  will  only  come!'"  Then  swiftly 
his  mind  sped  upon  the  long  search.  From  New  York  to 
San  Francisco,  thence  to  St.  Paul  and  back  to  St.  Louis, 
where  he  met  Clayton  ;  and,  almost  despairing  of  suc- 
cess, how  he  lingered  for  months  enjoying  this  friendship 
with  the  man  he  came  to  love  as  a  brother.  Their  expe- 
rience in  Kansas  drifted  before  him  ;  their  acquaintance 
with  Brown,  and  finally  that  awful  day  at  Harper's  Ferry  ! 
Then  he  saw  the  old  man's  prophecy  fulfilled ;  the 
country  in  arms,  his  own  enrollment,  and,  at  last,  the 
fight  with  the  guerillas  at  Baxter's  Springs,  led  by  that 
ill-omened  Livingstone;  he  saw  the  ghastly  forms  of 
dusky  men  falling  thick  and  fast  about  him,  towering 
above  which  was  Daniel  Dickson,  as  he  last  beheld  him, 
with  the  barrel  of  his  broken  musket  in  the  left  hand, 
and  the  right  clutching  a  great  gleaming  sabre  bayonet, 
as  he  cut  right  and  left,  front  and  rear  ;  and  then  saw 
him,  with  an  awful  lunge,  bury  it  to  the  hilt  in  the  chest 
of  his  adversary,  and  the  world  seemed  to  fade  and  fall 
on  him,  bringing  with  it  Dan  and  his  victim. 

Then,  as  in  a  dream,  his  mind  took  hold  of  the  slender 
thread  of  events  that  brought  partial  recovery  at  Baxter's 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  291 

Springs,  the  rough  ride  to  Fort  Scott,  and  the  ahriost 
blank  journey  to  Fort  Leavenworth. 

This  strange,  kaleidoscopic  or  panoramic  glance  back- 
ward brought  a  sigh,  as  he  turned  to  look  for  a  presence 
which  he  felt,  more  than  heard,  near  him.  His  eyes 
opened  wide  to  take  in  the  lovely  face  that  bent  over  his 
pillow  with  an  anxious,  inquiring  gaze.  Looking  into 
the  soft,  amber  eyes  filled  with  tender  solicitude,  he  tried 
to  speak,  and  his  tongue  refused  its  office,  as  he  wondered 
if  she  were  angel  or  mortal.  Then  he  reached  out  to 
touch  or  test  this  phantom,  and  the  effort  cost  a  twinge  of 
pain,  as  the  right  arm  fell  back  helpless  by  his  side  ;  and 
Petrel  said  gently,  placing  her  hand  on  the  disabled  one 
of  her  patient  : 

"  You  must  be  very  quiet ;  such  are  the  surgeon's 
instructions." 

"  Then  you  are  mortal,  like  myself  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  she,  smiling  ;  "  we  are  all  mortals  here." 

"  I  thought  perhaps  I  was  in  Paradise,  and  that  you — " 

Two  fingers  of  a  fair,  soft  hand  were  placed  on  his 
lips,  and  an  effort  at  a  frown  failed  on  the  face,  as  the 
snowy  folds  of  the  Sister's  bonnet  fringing  it  shook  men- 
acingly— commanding  silence. 

The  patient  submitted  to  the  gentle  authority  and 
waited  and  watched,  with  a  faint  smile,  as,  wiiliout  speak- 
ing, she  brought  him  his  medicine  and  gently  raised  his 
pillow.  His  eyes  followed  her  as  she  set  down  the  glass 
and  spoon  and  arranged  the  little  tray  on  the  table,  then 
quietly  sat  down  by  his  cot. 

"  May  I  ask  just  w/f  question — who  it  is  who  takes  such 
care  of  me  ?  " 

A  shake  of  the  white  crest  and  a  threatening  finger 
raised  was  the  only  response. 

Claude  felt  powerless  before  this  lovely  impersonation 
of  tyranny,  and  was  content  quietly  to  watch  and  return 
to  the  occupation  of  arranging  his  confused  thoughts; 
and  as  he  was  striving  to  separate  the  real  from  the  fan- 
tastic, fell  asleep. 

Upon  awakening  an  hour  later,  he  looked  about  for 
the  fair  face,  and  it  was  gone.  Another,  in  the  same 
garb,  was  there. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  he  said,  impulsively. 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  the  good  Sister. 


292  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

Then,  realizing  his  maladroitness,  he  said,  in  some  con- 
fusion : 

"  Oh,  it  is  nothing  ;   I  have  been  dreaming." 

And  so  he  had. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait  ;  he  saw  the  dream  face  coming 
toward  him  through  the  long  avenue  of  cots,  and  half-closed 
his  eyes,  feigning  sleep.  She  poured  out  his  medicine 
and  approached  him,  then  paused.      He  opened  his  eyes. 

"Oil,"  said  she,  "I  am  afraid  I  awoke  you.  Sister 
Agatha  said  you  were  already  awake." 

"  And  so  I  was,"  said  he,  and  obediently  took  the 
medicine. 

"  Thanks,  Ganymede,"  said  he,  smiling,  "  If  you  will 
not  tell  me  your  real  name,  I  must  invent  one." 

The  prettiest  rose-tint  crept  up  into  the  olive,  under  her 
white  hood,  as  she  said  : 

"  And  if  I  should  tell  my  name  you  will  ask  other  ques- 
tions and  make  yourself  worse,  and  I  shall  be  scolded  by 
the  surgeon." 

"  No,  on  my  honor,"  said  he.  "  I  will  ask  no  more  ques- 
tions." 

"Why  can't  you  call  me  'Sister'?  That  is  quite 
enough  I " 

"  But  there  are  so  many  Sisters,"  interposed  the  patient. 

"  Well,  then,  call  me  Sister  Petrel,"  she  said,  smiling. 

A  look  of  utter  amazement  swept  over  the  sick  man's 
face,  as  he  repeated  after  her  : 

"  Petrel  !     Ciel !     Then  you  are •  " 

"  Ah  !  take  care — your  word  of  honor  !  " 

"Well,  it  is  not  a  question;  I  said  I  would  ask  no  ques- 
tions. There  is  no  need ;  you  are  my  friend's  ward  and 
niece  !     Mon  Dicu,  may  I  tell  you ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  the  little  nurse  ;  "absolutely  you  shall 
tell  me  nothing;  you  have  said  quite  too  much  now." 
And,  indeed,  there  were  two  ominously  bright  spots  in  the 
patient's  cheeks  as,  with  eyes  wide  open  with  wonder,  he 
watched  her  profile  intently  ;  then  closing  them  almost 
wearily,  thought  "  How  beautiful  !  How  beautiful  she 
is  I  "  and  thinking  thus,  fell  asleep  again. 

It  was  not  until  the  next  morning  was  well  advanced 
that  he  saw  her  graceful,  lithe  form  coming  down  the  vista 
of  little  beds.  His  face  and  eyes  must  have  given  sign  of 
the  oladness  of  heart  he  felt. 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  293 

"  How  much  better  you  are  !  "  she  said,  looking  at  him 
brightly. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  said,  with  a  show  of  determination  ;  "  the 
doctor  say  I  may  talk  some  now." 

Petrel  laughed  at  the  little  foreign-English  speech  with 
which  he  asserted  his  independence. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  was  thinking  as  you  came  to  me 
in  the  sunshine  just  now  ?  Well,  I  was  thinking  many 
things,  but  one  is  that  you  look  just  like  my  sister,  my 
dear  sister." 

"Well,  how  many  people  do  I  look  like,  I  wonder?" 
said  she,  with  a  blush  and  a  merry  laugh.  "  Poor  Cap- 
tain De  Montholon  says  I  am  just  like  his  daughter." 

As  she  said  this  Duvall's  face  suddenly  changed  and 
became  very  pale. 

"  Who  did  you  say  ?  "  asked  he,  trembling  in  strange 
agitation. 

"Captain  De  Montholon  ;  that  poor  Confederate  officer 
who  is  so  ill,"  answered  Petrel.  "  Oh,  I  am  doing  very 
wrong,"  said  she,  clasping  her  hands  in  real  distress  ; 
"  you  must  not  talk  any  more.  Here,  let  me  give  you  a 
sip  of  this  water ;  it  has  just  a  spoonful  of  brandy  in  it, 
and  you  look  so  tired.'" 

And  he  was  very  tired,  as  he  closed  his  eyes  and  sank 
back  on  his  pillow  ;  it  seemed  that  earth  with  all  its  hopes 
and  its  joys  receded.  He  felt  as  if  he  were  near  the  goal 
toward  which  he  had  been  long  and  wearily  pressing — 
could  almost  touch  it — and  yet  now  had  not  the  strength 
to  grasp  it.  His  thoughts  grew  confused  again,  and  it  was 
some  time  before  he  could  arrange  ihem  and  remember 
when  and  how  that  long-silent  name  had  come  to  him. 
Had  he  dreamed  it,  or  did  some  one  say  he  was  here  1 
At  last  the  mists  cleared  away ;  he  was  in  the  hospital. 
Petrel,  Clayton's  lovely  niece,  was  his  angel  ministrant.  • 
She  had  said  that  Captain  De  Montholon  was  a  wounded 
Confederate  officer  in  the  same  ward  with  himself ;  he  had 
it  all  firm  and  sure  now. 

De  Montholon  was  his  father's  mother's  name  and  one 
it  was  often  his  fancy  to  assume  in  the  gay,  careless,  old 
life  at  home.  A  deep  conviction  grew  in  Claude's  mind 
that  his  search  was  to  come  to  an  end  here  ;  and  he 
waited  feverishly  for  the  dawn, 


CHAPTER  LX. 

"Fort  Leavenworth  Hospital,  Dec.  28,  1S6-. 

"  My  Dear  Uncle  : — 

"  How  can  I  tell  you  the  stran_2,e  things  that  have 
happened  since  I  wrote  \ou  hist  ?  Where  shall  I  begin  ? 
You  know  I  told  you  there  was  a  Confederate  officer 
here  who  seemed  very  fond  of  me  because  I  looked  like 
his  little  daughter  at  home.  Well,  when  Lieutenant  Du- 
vall  began  to  get  better  so  that  he  could  talk  a  little,  I 
spoke  about  this  Captain  De  Montholon  one  day,  and 
when  he  heard  the  name  I  thought  he  was  going  to  faint 
away,  and  I  laid  awake  all  night,  fearing  my  imprudence 
would  bring  on  fever.  And  as  I  lay  thinking,  my  mind 
began  to  piece  together  little  stray  bits  here  and  there. 
I  wondered  why  Lieutenant  Duvall  was  so  moved  ;  then 
I  thought  of  their  both  being  from  Italy,  and  I  remem- 
bered that  Captain  De  Montholon's  son  was  called  Clau- 
dius, and  something  seemed  to  whisper  to  me  '  You  can 
serve  him  ;  don't  delay  or  it  will  be  too  late.'  Over  and 
over  again  those  words  sounded  in  my  ear,  so  that  I  could 
scarcely  wait  for  the  morning:  and  my  dear  Martha 
thought  I  must  be  ill  because  I  got  up  and  sat  by  the 
window  watching  the  east.  She  said  :  '  My  dear  child, 
you  will  kill  yourself  with  this  work;  it  is  too  much  for  a 
delicate  girl.'  I  could  not  tell  her  why  I  was  restless 
nor  why  I  was  so  impatient  for  the  day,  for  I  had  not 
made  up  my  mind  what  I  should  do  when  it  came.  I  fell 
asleep  just  before  day,  and  it  was  nine  o'clock  when  I 
was  awakened  by  Martha,  bringing  me  a  cup  of  coffee. 
You  may  think  how  sorry  I  was  to  find  I  had  lost  two 
precious  hours  ;  and  as  soon  as  I  could  I  hastened  to  the 
hospital. 

"I  found  Captain  De  Montholon  had  been  given  up  by 
the  surgeons,  and  Father  Walter  had  already  been  there 
to  administer  the  Holy  Sacrament.  He  had  told  the 
surgeon  he  wanted  to  see  me  ;  so  I  went  to  him  at  once, 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  295 

my  heart  beating  and  praying  the  dear  Virgin  to  help  me 
to  do  what  was  wise  and  right. 

"  He  looked,  oh  !  so  ill. 

"  '  My  child,'  he  said,  '  it  is  most  over.  You  are  not 
afraid,  are  you,  to  sit  down  by  a  dying  man  ? ' 

"'Oh,  do  not  say  that,'  I  said.     '  You  will  not  die.' 

"'Yes,'  he  answered;  'they  have  told  me,  and  I  am 
not  sorry;  I  am  a  desolate  old  man,  and  it  is  better  so. 
Life  can  hold  nothing  more  for  me  ;  but  I  want  you  to  do 
me  one  more  service,  and  this  is  the  last  I  shall  ask. 
Get  pen  and  paper.  Can  you  write  Italian  ?  No,  I  sup- 
pose not.  Well,'  with  a  sigh,  '  then  it  must  be  in  Eng- 
lish.'    And  at  his  dictation  I  wrote  the  following  : 

"  '  My  Adored  Wife  : 

"  '  I  am  about  to  die,  and  at  such  times  men  speak  the 
truth.  I  did  not  intend  any  wrong  in  bringing  away  those 
securities.  In  the  horror  and  despair  at  finding  I  had 
slain  my  friend.  Count  Orsyni,  I  fled.  When  far  out  at 
sea,  I  discovered  that  I  had  brought  the  papers  away 
with  me,  and  I  realized  that  I  would  rest  under  the  awful 
suspicion  of  having  betrayed  this  trust.  Oh,  the  horror 
of  that  voyage !  My  hand  red  with  the  blood  of  my 
friend  1  My  name  tarnished  with  the  suspicion  of  dis- 
honor !  I  thought  of  you,  my  adored  wife — of  my  children, 
my  son — and  I  would  have  killed  myself  but  for  my  de- 
sire to  reach  land  and  send  back  those  accursed  papers. 

"'This,  as  you  know,  I  did,  through  my  solicitor  at  Na- 
ples, with  full  explanation.  Then  I  waited.  I  thought 
you  would  write  ;  but  you  did  not — communicating  with 
me  only  through  my  solicitor.  Perhaps  you  were  right — 
but,  ah  I  it  was  bitter — to  know  that  I  was  not  forgiven 
for  the  stain  I  had  brought  upon  our  untarnished  name  ! 

"  '  Then  the  years  of  torment  which  followed,  thinking  of 
the  ruin  I  had  wrought,  not  only  in  my  own  home,  but 
that  of  my  murdered  friend  ;  that  /,  the  petted  child  of 
fortune,  was  an  outcast,  a  price  upon  my  head  if  I  re- 
turned, and  my  son  ashamed  of  the  name  he  bears  !  Do 
you  wonder  that  I  grew  old  before  my  time  ?  tliat  my 
hair  whitened  ?  But  I  toiled,  and  was  not  unsuccessful. 
I  leave  an  ample  fortune,  which  is  to  be  divided  between 
you  and  my  children.  Mr.  Wickliffe,  of  Louisville,  Ken- 
tucky, is  my  solicitor  and  has  all  the  needful   papers. 


296  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

Communicate  with  him.  I  have  suffered  enough  to 
expiate  the  wrong  I  have  clone.  Think  of  me  kindly,  if 
you  can,  my  adored  Giuletta,  and  try  to  make  my  children 
feel  I  was  not  entirely  bad,  though  the  most  unfortunate 
of  men. 

"  '  Adieu,  my  beloved.  It  is  hard  to  die  solitary  and  un- 
wept.    But  God  wills  it ;  so  it  is  right.' 

"  When  1  had  finished  this  he  asked  me  to  read  it  to 
him.  I  do  not  know  how  I  did  it,  my  eyes  so  filled  with 
tears  and  my  voice  choked  with  sobs ;  but  when  I  had 
finished,  he  said  :  '  Now,  put  that  pen  in  my  hand,'  and 
I  did  as  he  bid  me,  placing  the  letter  on  a  book  directly 
under  the  pen.     Then  he  wrote  quite  distinctly, 

"'COUNT  CLAUDIUS  DAVILA.' 

"  The  surgeon  came  in  then,  and  seeing  he  was  sinking 
very  fast,  gave  him  some  stimulant  and  motioned  me  to 
leave  him. 

"  I  folded  the  letter  I  had  written  and  put  it  under  the 
girdle  of  my  dress,  then  made  a  sign  to  the  surgeon  that 
I  wished  to  speak  with  him  alone. 

"I  told  him  I  had  a  very  important  communication  to 
make  to  Lieutenant  Duvall.  'In  fact,'  I  said,  'Doctor, 
I  think  this  gentleman  is  Lieutenant  Duvall's  father. 
Will  it  do  him  harm  to  tell  him  of  his  presence  here? ' 

"  The  doctor  looked  startled  and  puzzled.  He  said  he 
would  go  and  examine  the  lieutenant's  condition  carefully 
and  let  me  know.  But  before  he  went  he  made  me  take 
a  glass  of  wine  and  lie  down,  because,  he  said,  I  looked 
so  white. 

"Presently  he  came  back  and  said  :  'He  is  fairly  well 
this  morning,  just  a  little  feverish,  but  I  fancy  his  mind 
is  disturbed  about  something,  and  we  had  better  let  things 
have  their  natural  way ;  sometimes  it  is  better  to  be  led 
by  circumstances,  and  if  this  is  as  you  say,  we  have  no 
right  to  keep  the  knowledge  from  him,' 

"  So  I  went  to  his  bedside,  with  the  letter  held  firmly 
under  the  girdle  of  my  black  dress. 

"  His  face  was  feverish,  but  his  eyes  lit  up  when  he  saw 
me,  as  if  he  had  been  waiting. 

"  '  Oh,  at  last  you  are  come ! '  You  know  his  little 
foreign  way.     '  I  could  not  sleep  last  night,'  he  went  on, 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  297 

'  because  I  am  so  impatient  to  learn  more  about  that 
Confederate  officer,'  and  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  me  with 
such  a  strange  eager  light  in  them.  'Who  is  Captain 
De  Montholon  ?  If  you  know  anything  about  him,  for 
God's  sake  tell  me.' 

"  I  do  not  know  what  I  said  or  how  I  tried  to  prepare 
him  for  it,  but,  at  last,  I  drew  out  the  letter,  and  showing 
him  the  signature,  said  : 

"'  There  is  the  answer  to  your  question.' 

"  Then  1  called  the  surgeon  and  went  away,  for  I  needed 
to  be  calm  myself.  In  a  half  hour  I  returned.  He  was 
very  pale,  the  color  all  gone  now  out  of  his  face.  He 
held  out  his  hand  to  me  and  said  : 

" '  Petrel,  you  have  brought  me  blessed  news ;  my 
father,  for  whom  I  have  sought  for  years,  is  here,  and  I 
am  to  see  him  in  a  few  moments.  I  have  read  this  letter 
to  my  mother.  He  has  been  the  victim  of  a  cruel  con- 
spiracy, and  1  hope  I  may  live  to  bring  vengeance  upon 
that  cold-blooded  villain,  Valerias,  who  has  betrayed  and 
killed  him.  His  friend  did  not  die  from  the  wound. 
His  solicitor,  Valerias,  never  sent  my  mother  those  pa- 
pers, nor  one  single  letter  from  my  father,  and  made  us 
believe,  poor  dupes  and  fools  that  we  were,  that  he  was 
leading  a  life  of  shame  and  dishonor  away  from  his 
family.' 

"The  surgeon  now  came  in,  and  said  :  '  I  think  Captain 
De  Montholon  should  be  in  some  way  prepared  for  what 
he  is  to  hear.' 

"Of  course  I  knew  this  meant  that  I  was  to  go  to  him, 
•which  I  did.  I  knelt  down  by  his  bedside  and  covered 
his  poor,  thin  hand  with  tears,  as  I  told  him,  I  know  not 
how,  of  what  was  in  store  for  him.  But,  never,  never 
can  I  forget  the  look  of  joy  in  that  dying  face.  He  said: 
'  Am  I  dreaming  ?  I  have  often  dreamed  this.  No,  it 
cannot  be ' 

"  '  Yes,  yes,'  I  said,  '  it  is  true ;  he  is  here  ;  he  has  been 
years  looking  for  you  ;  he  loves  you.' 

"  '  Oh,  my  God  !  '  he  cried,  '  let  me  live  another  hour  ! 
Only  that — one  hour  to  look  into  the  face  of  my  son  !' 

"  '  Doctor,'  he  said,  turning  toward  the  surgeon,  who 
had  come  in,  '  do  not  let  me  die  quite  yet ;  can  you  not 
give  me  something  to  prolong ' 

"  '  My  dear   friend,'  said   the    surgeon,  kindly,    '  drink 


298  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

this ;  and  do  not  waste  your   strength  ;  say  not  another 
word.' 

"  At  a  sign  from  the  doctor,  two  strong  attendants 
quietly  took  up  Lieutenant  Duvall's  cot  and  placed  it 
close  beside  that  of  the  dying  ofiEicer,  so  that  they  were 
directly  face  to  face,  and  near  enough  for  the  eager  hands 
to  clasp  ;  and  we  all  withdrew — only  the  surgeon  and  I 
remaining  near  enough  to  be  called  if  needed. 

"  We  could  hear  the  heartrending  tones  of  that  strange 
interview — but  it  was  all  veiled  in  the  mystery  of  a  foreign 
speech. 

"Now  that  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  done  I  found 
I  was  thoroughly  exhausted,  and  I  think  I  fainted  ;  I  am 
not  sure,  but  I  found  myself  in  my  own  room  and  Martha 
leaning  over  me,  and  have  no  idea  how  I  got  there. 
They  will  not  let  me  talk,  or  tell  me  anything  about  what 
I  so  long  to  know.  They  think  by  making  me  quiet  they 
can  stop  thought.  Ah,  well  !  I  will  wait  and  be  patient. 
But  I  did  have  my  own  way  about  writing  you  this  letter, 
and  now  I  will  try  to  sleep. 

"Fondl}^ 

"  Petrel. 

"  December  29. 

"  Captain  De  Montholon  died  last  night  at  midnight, 
in  his  son's  arms.  "Petrel." 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

Frank  Clayton  read  this  letter  way  to  its  close.  Of 
the  conflicting  emotions  which  agitated  him,  astonish- 
ment seemed  the  strongest.  "  De  Montholon  Claude 
Duvall's  father  !  "  he  exclaimed,  at  last.  "  Impossible  ! 
And  I  have  known  him  all  these  years,  and  met  him  again 
and  again  !  How  well  I  remember  his  air  of  foreign 
distinction  and  the  surprise  with  which  I  often  listened  to 
his  perfect  English.  I  can  see  now  his  fine,  European 
courtliness  of  manner,  the  sad,  aristocratic  face,  with 
white  moustache  and  imperial.  And  that  was  Claude's 
father!  Good  God,  why  did  I  not  then  know  it?  How 
much  suffering  might  have  been  saved  !  If  Claude  had 
only  confided  in  me !  But,  even  then,  I  should  never 
have  suspected,  for  the  name  was  French.  And  now  to 
think  that  she.  Petrel — that  child,  with  her  inspired  sym- 
pathy and  insight — has  unravelled  this  mystery  and 
brought  ihem  together  at  last !  What  a  strange  story  ! 
and  who  shall  say  that  truth  is  not  stranger  than  fiction  !  " 

It  was  far  in  the  night,  and  there  were  stirring  events  on 
the  morrow;  but  he  sat  down  in  his  tent  and  wrote  two 
letters — first,  to  Petrel,  and  then  to  Duvall.  The  latter 
was  as  follows  : 

'*  My  Dear,  Dear  Friend  : — 

"  You  will  know  why  my  hand  trembles  and  why  my 
heart  throbs  with  deep  emotion  when  I  tell  you  that 
Petrel  has  written  me  of  the  joy  and  the  sorrow  which 
have  in  the  same  moment  come  to  you.  How  deeply  I 
sympathize  in  both,  need  I  say?  And  now,  a  new  sur- 
prise awaits  you.  I  knew  your  father  well — have  had  in- 
timate personal  and  professional  association  with  him  for 
years,  through  Mr.  Wicklifife,  my  former  partner,  whose 
client  he  was.  I  knew  him  as  Colonel  De  Montholon, 
and  had  the  greatest  admiration  for  his  character  and 
abilities,  although  there  was  an  impenetrable  reserve 
about  him  which  always  prevented  me  from  coming  near 


300  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

to  him  as  I  desired.  On  one  occasion  when  j'ou  and 
I  were  at  the  St.  Charles  in  New  Orleans,  I  invited  him 
to  dine  with  us.  He  pleaded  an  engagement,  and  when 
I  repeated  the  invitation,  said — I  remember  so  well  how 
he  looked,  with  his  melancholy  and  distinguished  air — 
'  You  are  kind,  but  you  will  have  to  excuse  me  ;  I  am 
such  a  recluse ;  I  rarely  accept  invitations.'  Had  he 
come — oh,  think  of  it !  You  would  have  met,  and  how 
much  been  saved  !  But  you  must  often  have  been  near 
to  each  other,  and,  perhaps,  even  under  the  same 
roof. 

"Whether  this  will  comfort  or  sadden  you  I  do  not 
know,  my  dear  Claude  ;  but  I  shall  have  much  more  to 
tell  you  of  your  father  which  you  will  be  so  glad  to  hear. 

"  I  hope  to  hear  that  these  agitating  events  have  not  re- 
tarded your  recovery,  and  also  that  the  time  is  not  far  dis- 
tant when  we  may  meet  once  more. 

"  Faithfully  yours, 

"  Frank  Clayton." 

"  An  engagement  is  imminent — probably  will  take  place 
to-morrow.  If  anything  should  happen  to  me,  I  will  take 
comfort  in  knowing  my  ward  will  find  a  friend  in  you. 
She  will  be  amply  provided  for  in  my  will,  of  course 

"F.  C." 

A  week  later,  Frank  was  not  at  all  surprised  to  learn 
from  his  friend,  Doctor  Magruder,  at  Leavenworth  Hospi; 
tal,  that  Petrel  was  suffering  from  nervous  exhaustion. 
"  She  is  not  ill,"  he  wrote,  "  but  there  is  a  reaction  from 
the  tremendous  strain  of  those  two  days  in  the  hospital, 
when  she  played  such  an  heroic  part,  and  I  have  ordered 
that  she  be  kept  absolutely  free  from  excitement." 

Clayton  sent  peremptory  orders  that  she  was  on  no 
account  to  engage  again  in  any  hospital  work,  and  that  as 
soon  as  she  was  able  she  should  return  to  the  convent 
with  Martha. 

Rest  and  quiet  brought  back  health  to  the  young  girl ; 
but  in  vain  she  tried  to  return  to  her  former  occupations. 
Nothing  brought  the  old  feeling  of  enjoyment ;  her  paint- 
ing— music — books — all  wearied  her  ;  and  Martha  saw 
with  grief  and  anxiety  a  settled  look  of  melancholy  upon 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  30I 

the  face  she  so  loved.  Her  old  friend,  Tom,  the  gardener, 
shook  his  head,  and  said  :  "  It  was  a  bad  day  when  they 
let  that  tender  young  thing  go  to  nuss  in  that  hospital; 
she  ain't  no  more  fit  for  it  than  nuthin,  and  she  ain't  bin 
the  same  sence.  Why,  she  don't  care  no  more  for  these 
flowers  than  if  they  wuz  dirt."  And  he  wiped  his  sleeve 
across  his  eyes  to  brush  away  a  tear  of  disappointment. 
"  I  tole  Martha  jest  how  'twould  be.  I  sez,  '  Martha, 
some  things  is  right,  and  some  things  izn't.'  " 

One  sunny  morning,  in  the  early  spring,  a  gentleman 
called  at  the  convent  and  asked  permission  to  see  Miss 
Petrel. 

She  dressed  and  came  down-stairs,  perfectly  calm  and 
self-possessed,  although  she  knew  well  whom  she  should 
see.  But,  was  that  tall,  pale,  distinguished-looking  man 
her  patient  ?  Yes  ;  there  were  the  great  luminous  eyes, 
there  was  the  same  smile  of  welcome,  and  there  the  poor 
right  arm  in  a  sling.  He  too  had  his  feeling  of  strnnge- 
ness  and  svu'prise.  He  had  only  seen  her  in  the  bhuk 
gown  and  white  head-dress  of  the  Sisterhood  ;  and  this 
graceful  creature  in  flowing  draperies  was  a  new  revela- 
tion to  him.  Was  this  young  goddess  ever  his  nurse.'' 
Ah  !  how  lovely  she  was,  with  her  quickly  changing  color, 
as  he  talked  to  her  of  his  father,  of  his  gratitude  for  the 
joy  and  the  comfort  she  had  brought  to  him.  How  deftly 
she  parried  his  praise  of  her  heroism  and  her  kindness  to 
his  poor  father  ! 

He  told  her  he  was  going  home  to  Italy,  and  as  her 
color  faded  until  she  looked  like  marble,  an  expression  of 
joy  came  into  his  own  pale  face. 

"  Petrella,"  he  said,  very  soflh'. 

She  gave  him  a  quick,  startled  look. 

"Whydo\nu  call  me  that?  There  is  only  one  other 
who  ever  called  me  by  that  name." 

"  Yes  ;  I  know,"  he  said.  "  I  have  come  to  learn  that 
pretty  name  from  my  father.  We  had  eight  hours — eight 
blessed  hours  together,  Petrella,  and  we  talked  of  much 
things.  He  told  me  how  you  were  an  angel  to  him — how 
you  solace  and  make  lighter  his  poor  heart.  And  now, 
Petrella,  I  go  awav,  but  1  hope — not  for  always.  I  come 
back  some  day — do  you  know  whv  ?  Because  I  cannot 
stay  away.     Because — I  love  you,  Petrella." 


302  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

Ah  !  was  this  the  same  poor,  grey,  sickly  sunlight  that 
shone  this  morning  ?  Were  these  flowers  poor  old  Tom 
was  bringing  her  the  same  dull  things  she  had  seen  only 
a  few  hours  ago  ?  Claude  had  gone,  an  ocean  would  soon 
roll  between  them — but  he  had  said  those  four  words, 
"  Petrel  la,  I  love  you,"  and  is  it  strange  she  had  no  regrets 
for  that  one  kiss  which  lingered  in  her  memory  ? 


CHAPTER  LXII. 

Frank  Clayton's  mail  had  brought  him  many  surprises 
of  late,  but  no  letter  had  given  him  food  for  so  much 
anxious  deliberation  as  the  one  he  received  from  his  old 
friend,  written  just  on  the  eve  of  sailing  for  Europe. 
After  telling  him  of  the  circumstances  which  rendered  it 
necessary  for  him  to  resign  his  commission  in  the  Federal 
Aimy,  consequent  upon  the  new  duties  in  assuming  his 
father's  title  and  settling  up  his  estate,  he  went  on  to  say 
— what  we  already  know — that  he  loved  Clayton's  niece  ; 
and  he  formally  asked  permission  of  his  friend  to  offer 
her  his  hand  in  marriage. 

Clayton  was  profoundly  perplexed  and  distressed.  He 
had  never  told  Claude  of  the  discovery  of  Petrel's  mother 
and  the  clearing  away  of  the  mystery  of  her  birth  and 
origin  ;  that  was  a  secret  known  only  to  Martha  and  him- 
self; now  he  must  divulge  it.  She  had  seemed  to  him 
such  a  child,  he  had  never  thought  of  a  strange  complica- 
tion such  as  this  ;  and  yet  what  more  natural  than  that  she 
should  fall  in  love  with  Claude,  who  was  beyond  compare 
the  most  fascinating  man  he  had  ever  known  !  But — it 
could  never  be.  Had  his  friend  remained  obscure,  it 
would  have  been  different  ;  but  now  that  he  bore  a  distin- 
guished name  and  title  and  was  allied  to  some  of  the 
proudest  families  in  Italy,  it  would  be  a  misalliance  and 
would  bring  only  misery  in  the  end  to  both. 

All  this  he  embodied  in  a  carefully  written  letter — the 
most  difficult  he  ever  penned — and  a  few  weeks  later 
received  the  following  reply  : 

"Sorrento,  June  12,  186-. 
"  My  Dear  Friend  : — 

"  For  the  first  time,  I  am  angr}^  yes,  angry,  with  you. 
I  have  suffered  much,  God  knows  ;  and  now  you  would 
take  away  my  great  joy.  I  have  read  with  deepest  inter- 
est all  you  write  about  Petrella,  because  all  that  touches 
her  is    to  me  so  sacred ;  but  what  care  I  who  was  her 


304  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

ancestor,  or  what  color  the  blood  in  her  veins  !  It  is  she, 
Petrclla,  whom  I  love,  and  for  that — we  Italians  think  not 
so  much  disgrace  in  that  race  as  do  you  Americans.  And 
if  they  did,  what  should  I  care  ?  Where  is  there  such 
another  ?  Such  a  soul  ?  such  a  heart  ?  Ah  1  Mon  Dieii ! 
Have  I  not  reason  to  know  what  she  is  ?  Did  not  my 
dying  father  say :  '  Petrella  has  consoled  me  like  an 
angel  ;  I  should  die  happier,  my  son,  if  I  thought  she 
would  some  day  be  your  wife  '  ?  And  did  I  not  tell  him  : 
'  Father,  I  love  her  ! '  ? 

"  No  ;  you  say  wrong,  my  friend  ;  it  is  «tf/ gratitude  ;  for 
I  love  her  before  she  make  me  that  great  service.  And 
now — I  am  not  angry — no,  I  unsay  that,  but  you  make 
me  suffer  with  this  delay.  No  one  will  ever  know  the 
secret  you  tell  me  in  this  letter,  no  one.  We  will  bury  it, 
and  go  on  as  if  it  did  not  live. 

"  My  mother  and  sister  talk  of  Petrella,  only  Petrella,  the 
good  angel  which  restored  to  us  our  father  and  make  us 
know  how  honorable  and  how  injured  he  is  ;  and  think 
you  not  I  will  feel  pride  to  bring  her  here — to  say  to  my 
friends  '  This  is  my  wife  ' .-' 

"  Write  on  the  moment  you  receive  this  letter,  and 
address  me  Sorrento,  Italy. 

"  Faithfully  yours, 

"  Claudius  Davila." 

The  same  mail  which  brought  this  to  Clayton  had 
brought  to  Petrel  in  her  quiet  retreat  two  letters  :  one  in 
a  foreign  handwriting,  evidently  from  a  lady,  and  accom- 
panying it  a  mysterious  packet.  She  examined  the  post- 
mark, "  Sorrento,"  with  anxious  eyes,  and  her  fingers 
trembled  not  a  little  as  she  broke  the  crested  seal.  This 
was  what  she  read  : 

"Sorrento,  June  10,  1S6-. 
"  Mia  Carrissima  Petrella  : — 

"  My  heart  is  so  full  that  my  poor  English  cannot 
contain  its  thought.  My  son  has  told  us  how  heroique, 
how  beautiful,  was  your  devotion  to  my  poor  husband,  and 
you  are  enshrined  like  a  saint  in  our  house.  My  benuti- 
ful  child,  we  shall  never  cease  to  thank  you  for  the  joy 
you  have  brought  back  to  our  unhappy,  dnrkened  hearts. 
So  manv  years  !     And  all  for  naught  !     Such  wickedness 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  305 

and  such  misconception,  and,  alas  !  such  suffering !  But, 
through  you,  we  have  his  dear  ashes  now  safe  with  us, 
and  are  happier  than  in  eight  long  years. 

"  Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  accept  this  souvenir 
from  your  grateful  and  loving  friend, 

"  CONTESSA    GlULETTA    DaVILA. 

"  Pardon  me  my  poor  English,  Aladcmoiselle.^^ 

The  mysterious  wrappings  one  after  another  were 
removed  from  the  package,  and  at  last  revealed  a  red 
Morocco  box,  with  a  gold  monogram  and  a  crest  on  the 
cover.  Petrel  scarcely  dared  press  upon  the  little  spring 
— it  was  all  so  impossible,  so  dazzling  an  experience  to 
come  to  her,  in  her  hitherto  quiet  and  uneventful  life. 
When  she  opened  it,  there  lay,  softly  cushioned  in  satin, 
a  gold  locket  and  chain,  and  upon  the  locket  was  traced 
in  diamonds  one  single  word  : 

"  PETRELLA." 

The  eyes  which  looked  within  the  locket  were  too 
blinded  with  tears  to  see,  at  first,  the  miniature  faces 
which  looked  out  upon  her — the  Count  and  Countess 
Davila,  taken  at  the  time  of  their  marriage — so  a  little, 
brief  letter  from  Claude  told  her.  And  when  she  had 
taken  these  treasures  to  her  own  room  and  locked  the 
door,  she  looked  longest  and  most  earnestly — at  the 
beautiful  gift  ?  Ah,  no  !  At  a  little  letter,  containing 
not  more  than  four  lines;  not  one  word  in  it  that  all  the 
world  might  not  have  seen  !  And  this  exacting  young 
lady  was  more  sad  than  glad,  and  came  down-stairs  later 
with  eyes  that  looked  as  if  they  had  wept. 


CHAPTER  LXIII. 

Of  course  Clayton's  opposition  gave  way  before 
Claude's  invincible  temper ;  and  he  was  glad  indeed  not 
to  be  the  instrument  in  making  two  people  miserable,  as 
he  himself  was.  He  wrote  at  once  to  Martha  a  confiden- 
tial letter,  telling  her  of  Count  Claudius  Davila's  pro- 
posal.     He  then    said  : 

"  As  her  mother,  it  is  your  privilege  to  decide 
what  shall  be  done  in  this  matter ;  and  I  shall  delay 
my  reply  to  his  letter  until  I  hear  from  you." 

A  few  weeks  later,  another  letter  and  another  little 
packet  sped  across  the  sea  and  half  across  the  continent, 
to  the  little  Convent  of  "  Sacre-Coeur,"  in  Kansas;  but 
this  letter  might  ?iot  have  been  seen  by  all  the  world  ! 
It  was  read  behind  locked  doors,  and  the  reading  seemed 
to  occupy  fully  two  hours  ;  after  which  a  young  lady 
emerged  with  a  shining  radiance  in  her  face. 

Martha's  quick  eye  detected  the  look,  and,  at  the  same 
moment,  the  jewelled  ring  on  her  hand. 

Petrel  laid  her  head  on  the  faithful  woman's  bosom  and 
said  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  Martha,  dear,  1  am  going  to  be  the  wife  of  Count 
Claudius  Davila ;  he  has  asked  me  to  marry  him.  Only 
think,"  said  she,  raising  her  head  and  looking  into  the 
kind  eyes,  "  only  think  of  his  choosing  me,  poor  little  me, 
out  of  all  this  world  !     Isn't  it  like  a  fairy-tale  ? " 

The  kind  Sisters  treated  the  little  maid  as  a  person  of 
great  distinction  when  they  heard  what  was  to  happen  ; 
and  her  old  school-fellows  were  not  a  little  awed  by  her 
brilliant  romance.     But  Martha  was  her  only  confidante, 

"  Martha,  dear,"  she  said,  "  I  must  study ;  I  ought  to 
know  so  much.  First,  I  must  learn  Italian  ;  and  then — 
why,  there  is  so  much  about  Italy  that  I  don't  know  at 
all.  Oh,  dear,"  she  said,  sighing,  '■'■now  I  want  a  mother. 
And  how  proud  and  happy  she  would  be !  Do  you 
know,  I  see  her  often,  and  I  know  just  how  she  would 
look,"  and  she  threw  her  head  back  with  half-closed  lids, 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  307 

as  if  painting  a  picture  in  space.  "  She  has  soft  brown 
hair,  with  only  a  few  silver  threads — and  a  fair  sweet 
face — with  just  a  faint  little  color  ;  and  she  wears  soft, 
shining,  gray  silks,  and  creamy  lace  at  her  throat ;  and 
she  has  lovely,  gracious  manners,"  and  her  color  kindling 
as  she  gave  the  reins  to  her  imagination,  "  and  when  she 
rides  in  her  daughter's  carriage  the  great  ladies  in 
Sorrento  look  after  her  and  say  :  '  That  is  the  beautiful 
American  lady,  the  Countess  Petrella's  mother  I '  "  And 
with  a  laugh,  hiding  her  head  on  her  maid's  shoulder,  she 
said  :  "  No  one  but  you,  dear,  knows  how  silly  I  can 
be."  Then,  starting  up  quickly,  "  Why,  you  are  crying — 
you  are  crying  !     What  is  it .''  " 

"  Oh,  nothing,  nothing,"  said  the  poor  woman,  strug- 
gling to  check  her  sobs.  "  Only  I  am  thinking  I  may 
lose  you — that  you  will  go  away." 

"Why,  you  dear,  foolish,  old  Martha;  if  that  is  all,  do 
not  cry  any  more,  for  you  shall  never  leave  me  ;  when  I 
am  married,  I  shall  take  you  with  me — to  Italy  or  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth." 


CHAPTER  LXIV. 

"  Beechwood,  July  3,  1S6-. 

"  My  Dear  Frank  : — 

"  I  have  heard  through  Doctor  Magruder  of  Petrel's 
strange  and  romantic  experience  at  the  hospital ;  and  now 
comes  the  rumor  of  her  engagement  to  Count  Davila.  I 
am  a  little — just  a  little — hurt  to  learn  this  first  from 
strangers  ;  but  Katrine  and  I  can  talk  and  think  of  little 
else.  Do  write  me  at  once,  and  confirm  or  deny  the 
story.  We  were  sorely  disappointed  that  you  would  not 
let  her  come  to  us  after  her  illness  in  May,  and  I  cannot 
understand,  my  dear  Frank,  why  you  deny  me  the  privi- 
lege of  acting  in  the  place  of  a  mother  to  this  dear  child, 
whom,  not  having  seen,  I  still  love  as  my  own. 

"  Still  I  am,  always  affectionately  yours, 

"  Kate  Fletcher." 

Concealments  were  of  all  things  in  the  world  most  dis- 
tasteful to  Clayton  ;  and  yet  he  was  all  the  time  entan- 
gled in  a  mesh  of  subterfuges  and  evasions.  He  wrote 
Kate,  parrying  as  well  as  he  could  her  reproaches  for 
keeping  Petrel  away  from  her,  and  told  her  that  the  en- 
gagement to  Count  Davila  was  indeed  a  fact,  but  that  he 
should  urge  that  the  marriage  be  delayed  until  she  was 
nineteen. 

Then  he  wrote  to  Roland  Priest  announcing  the  event, 
with  a  brief  account  of  the  circumstances  which  had  led 
to  it.  This  letter  was  read  with  a  twinge  of  disappoint- 
ment by  that  young  man,  who  had  had  romantic  visions 
of  his  own  regarding  Clayton's  beautiful  ward,  of  whom 
they  had  heard  so  much  but  never  seen. 

But  Isabel  listened  to  the  recital  with  very  different 
emotions.  In  her  sleepless  nights,  her  long  rides  over 
the  mountains,  she  had  made  many  forecasts  of  her  lost 
lover's  future,  and  had  a  jealous  suspicion  that  he  would, 
at  last,  console  himself  by  marrying  this  lovely  girl ;  and 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  30() 

she  felt  an  indescribable  peace  in  seeing  this  phantom 
laid  low. 

Like  most  people  with  strong  natures,  she  was  re- 
served and  reticent.  Her  mother  and  Roland  knew  that 
she  had  suffered,  but  had  never  fathomed  the  depth  of  her 
sorrow,  nor  suspected  the  desperate  resolve  which  some- 
times seized  her  to  go  to  him.  She  read  with  sickening 
horror  of  battles  and  slaughter.  He  was  now  where  the 
conflict  was  the  hottest,  and  her  nerves  were  strained 
almost  past  endurance  by  the  rumors  of  fresh  engage- 
ments, or  by  delay  in  the  arrival  of  his  letters  to  Ro- 
land. In  the  night,  while  others  slept,  she  said  bitter 
things  to  herself — arraigned  her  own  soul  for  arrogance 
and  pride  and  conceit.  She  had  closed  the  door  upon 
this  angel  visitant — this  beautiful,  transfiguring  love — and 
for  what.''  Because  she  was  better  than  he.'  Because 
she  knew  more  than  he  about  the  great  problems  of  in- 
finity ?  Better  than  he  about  the  nature  of  that  inscruta- 
ble Being  whom  man  clothes  with  his  own  attributes  ?  In 
the  awful  crucible  of  suffering  her  soul  had  grown  beyond 
the  limits  of  human  creeds  ;  and  had  he  been  here  now, 
how  different  had  been  her  answer  !  "  Too  late  !  Too 
late  !  "  was  her  piteous  cry. 

One  night  in  the  late  autumn  she  had  slept  better  than 
usual,  but  just  before  the  dawn  was  awakened  by  some- 
thing touching  her  hair  lightly.  She  started,  fully  awake 
in  a  moment,  and  saw  two  outstretched  arms,  and  a  face 
radiant  in  the  moonlight,  which  streamed  in  from  the  win- 
dow— the  rest  of  the  form  indistinct  in  the  darkness — the 
arms  stretched  appealingly,  as  a  voice  said: 

"  Come  to  me,  my  beloved,  come  to  me  !  " 

Then  the  vision  faded,  and  she  heard  only  the  clock 
ticking  on  the  shelf.  The  face,  the  voice,  were  Clayton's. 
With  solemn  intensity,  Isabel  stretched  out  her  own  arms 
toward  the  darkness  where  she  had  seen  the  vision,  and 
said  : 

"  Yes,  dearest,  I  will  go  to  you." 

Her  nerves  were  firm  and  strong;  she  was  not  fanciful 
nor  superstitious.  What  was  this  summons  ?  Her  resolve 
was  taken.  She  went  to  the  breakfast-table  vervpale  and 
calm,  and  when  it  was  over  she  put  Ium'  arm  around  her 
mother's  neck  and  kissed  her. 

"Mamma,  dear,"  she  said,  "you  know  if  Rr)Iand  ha  1 


3IO  THE    STORMY   PETREL. 

been  well  we  could  not  have  kept  him  with  us.  He 
would  have  been  in  this  cruel  war,  and  then  my  duty 
would  have  been  here ;  but  now  I  think  you  ought  to 
spare  me.  Don't,  don't,"  she  said,  putting  her  finger  on  her 
mother's  lips,  "wait;  I  am  not  happy,  my  darling  mother. 
I  think  you  know  it.  I  will  be  better  where  I  can  do 
some  good — where  I  can  do  my  part  in  this  time  of  sor- 
row and  trial.  Now,  do  not  oppose  me,  dear  mamma," 
and  she  kissed  the  sad,  patient  face.  "  It  will  be  better 
for  us  all  to  let  me  go.  I  will  nurse  the  wounded — and — 
perhaps — perhaps — he  may  need  me." 

Opposition  to  the  plan  was  useless,  so  Mrs.  Priest  and 
Roland  acquiesced,  and  preparations  were  made  for  Isa- 
bel's departure  by  the  next  steamer  for  Panama.  Her 
first  destination  would  be  Washington  city,  to  which  place 
letters  would  follow  her. 

The  parting  at  the  steamer  was  a  trying  one  for  all,  but 
borne  bravely ;  and  the  mother  and  brother,  as  they 
watched  the  loved  form  upon  the  deck  of  the  receding 
vessel,  never  suspected  that  she  was  going  in  answer  to  a 
summons  from  a  phantom. 


CHAPTER  LXV. 

The  voyage  seemed  interminable,  and  was,  indeed, 
greatly  prolonged  by  storms  and  head-winds  after  leaving 
Aspinwall  :  but  New  York  was  reached  at  last;  and  Is- 
abel and  her  small  luggage  were  soon  speeding  by  cars 
to  Washington.  She  found  protection  in  a  kind  lady, 
who  was  on  a  similar  errand — that  is,  who  was  going  to 
give  her  services  to  the  care  of  the  wounded  wherever 
she  found  them  most  needed ;  and  Isabel  gladly  accepted 
the  invitation  to  join  her,  for  their  mutual  benefit. 

Where  she  should  go  from  Washington,  she  did  not 
know ;  that  must  be  determined  by  what  she  could  learn 
there,  her  idea  being  to  find  some  field  of  usefulness  as 
near  as  possible  to  Frank's  vicinity. 

Soon  the  dome  of  the  Capitol  appeared  in  dazzling 
white  on  a  field  of  azure — and  in  a  few  moments  more 
they  bowled  into  the  station  and  then  took  a  carriage  for 
Willard's  Hotel.  As  she  had  hoped,  letters  from  home 
awaited  her,  having  come  by  the  quicker  route  of  the 
"  Pony  Express."  Two  letters — one  from  Roland  and 
another  from  her  mother — then  a  long  envelope,  ad- 
dressed in  an  unfamiliar  hand,  to  "Miss  Isabel  Priest, 
Coultersville,  California,"  which  had  been  readdressed  by 
Roland  to  Washington.  What  could  it  be  .^  She  opened 
it,  and  from  within  the  letter  dropped  a  folded  piece  of 
paper.  Marble  is  not  whiter  than  was  her  face  as  she 
opened  it  and  discovered,  in  her  own  handwriting,  these 
words  : 

"Any  one  finding  this  upon  Mr.  Frank  Clayton  will 
please  at  once  communicate  with  Miss  Isabel  Priest, 
Coultersville,  California,  informing  her  of  his  precise  con- 
dition." 

It  was  the  "  amulet  "  she  had  placed  about  his  neck  in 
parting  ! 

The  paper  dropped  from  her  nerveless  grasp,  and  she 


312  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

sat  like  a  statue  for  many  moments,  not  daring  to  read 
the  letter,  which  was  as  follows : 

"Near  Chattanooga,  Tenn.,  Nov.  12,  x86-. 
"  Dear  Madam  : — 

"  Mr.  Clayton  was  found  on  the  battlefield,  badly 
wounded  in  the  leg,  and  with  a  severe  cut  over  the  left 
eye,  from  a  bursting  shell.  He  has  remained  unconscious 
from  the  latter  wound,  which  I  fear  is  a  serious  fracture 
of  the  skull.  Our  hospital  accommodations  are  meagre 
for  our  own  sick  and  wounded,  but  such  as  they  are,  rest 
assured  we  will  share  with  your  friend. 
"  Respectfully, 

"  Edward  Eve, 
"Assistant  Surgeon  C.  S.  A." 

November  12!  It  was  the  night  of  November  11, 
or  the  morning  of  the  12th,  that  she  had  seen  those'out- 
stretched  arms  and  heard  that  voice  supplicating  her  to 
"come!"  And  at  that  moment  he  was  lying  wounded 
on  the  battlefield !  Now  her  way  was  clear,  and  her 
nerves  felt  firm  as  steel,  as  she  rose  with  a  solemn  con- 
viction that  she  should  find  him  and  that  it  would  7iot  be 
too  late. 

After  consultation  with  her  friend,  Miss  Anna  Plant,  it 
was  decided  to  go  at  once  to  Secretary  Stanton,  to  try 
and  secure  the  necessary  pass  within  the  Confederate 
lines. 

The  great  war  secretary  was  too  busy  to  give  time  to 
such  small  matters,  and  quickly  disposed  of  it  by  a 
peremptory  refusal. 

What  was  to  be  done  next?  Go  to  the  President? 
Isabel  thought  of  a  letter  to  Mr.  Lincoln  which  her  old 
friend,  Captain  John  Brown,  had  long  ago  given  to  Ro- 
land, and  which  he  had  never  presented.  To  this  she 
added  these  words  : 

"  Roland  Priest's  sister  desires  to  see  the  President 
upon  a  matter  of  life  and  death." 

It  was  an  inspiration.  Doors  opened  like  magic  before 
the  two  ladies  who  waited  below,  and  who  found  them- 
selves a  few  moments  later  in  the  presence  of  the  Presi- 
dent. 

So  absorbed  was  the   brave  girl   in   the   object  of  her 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  ^l;^ 

coming  she  was  utterly  unconscious  of  the  sensation  she 
made  in  the  glittering  array  of  uniformed  and  dis- 
tinguished men,  who  respectfully  fell  back  to  make  way 
for  her  in  the  Audience  Chamber.  She  thought  of  noth- 
ing but  of  Frank — wounded — and  waiting  for  her — and 
threw  back  her  veil,  that  she  could  look  more  closely  into 
the  kind  face  of  the  President,  as  he  said  : 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  Miss  Priest  ?  " 

"  Mr.  President,  I  have  a  friend,  a  brave  officer,  who  is 
wounded  and  a  prisoner  in  a  Confederate  hospital,  in 
Tennessee.  I  have  been  sent  for,  and  his  life  may  de- 
pend upon  my  going  to  him.  Secretary  Stanton  has  re- 
fused the  pass  ;  can  jou  give  it  to  me  .-'  " 

Whether  it  was  the  pathos  of  the  story  or  the  beauty 
of  the  girl,  none  can  tell  ;  but  the  President  was  captured, 
and  he  reached  his  hand  for  the  paper  014  which  Secre- 
tary Stanton  had  endorsed  his  "No,"  saying  : 

"  Let  me  see  your  application,"  and  quickly  wrote  on  a 
separate  sheet : 

"  If  not  very  detrimental  to  the  public  service,  grant 
Miss  Priest's  request. 

"  A.  L." 

Then  writing  a  few  lines,  which  he  folded  and  placed 
in  the  same  envelope,  he  said  very  kindly  : 

"  There,  Miss  Priest,  give  this  to  Secretary  Stanton, 
and  I  think  you  will  have  no  further  difficulty.  Now, 
God  bless  you,  my  child,  in  your  brave  undertaking," 
and,  leaning  toward  her  with  a  significant  smile,  he  added 
in  a  low  tone  :  "  I  think  your  heart  will  lead  you  right — 
and  I  think — Colonel  Clayton  ought  to  be  a  very  happy 
man." 

Isabel  was  too  glad  at  her  success  to  mind  the  blush 
she  knew  was  dyeing  her  cheeks  way  up  to  the  temples, 
and  with  just  a  murmured  word  of  gratitude,  presssd  his 
hand  and  was  gone. 

He  was  right  ;  Secretary  Stanton  sent  back  the  paper 
reinforced  with  still  another — an  order  to  "Commanders 
of  the  United  States  forces  wherever  stationed,  to  give  to 
the  bearer,  Isabel  Priest,  any  aid  or  information  that 
she  may  ask   not   absolutely  detrimental   to   the  Govern- 


3 14  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

ment  service,"  Then  signed,  "  Edward  M,  Stanton, 
Secretary  of  War." 

The  messenger  who  gave  this  to  Isabel  and  her  friend 
said : 

"  The  Secretary  will  see  you  for  one  moment  if  you  will 
come  this  way." 

They  followed  him,  and  were  soon  in  the  august  pres- 
ence. Continuing  his  writing  for  a  while,  as  if  unaware 
of  their  presence,  he  then  looked  up  and  motioned  for 
them  to  approach. 

"  Which  is  Miss  Priest  ? "  said  he  ;  and  then  bowed 
slightly  when  Isabel  answered  that  she  was  the  lady. 

"  Miss  Priest,  what  is  the  name  of  the  officer  you  seek  ? 
We  may  be  able  to  aid  you  in  finding  him." 

"  It  is  Colonel  Clayton,  of  the  First Regiment," 

said  she,  coloring  deeply. 

"  Clayton  ?  "  he  answered  abruptly.  "  I  know  him — 
why,  he's  dead." 

"  Dead  ! "  said  Isabel,  sinking  into  a  chair  with  a  look 
of  despair. 

"  Yes  ;  the  records  of  this  office  show  that  he  was  killed. 
Several  of  his  officers  saw  him  and  his  horse  blown  to 
pieces  by  an  exploding  shell  at  the  very  moment  when  he 
was  leading  a  charge  on  a  Confederate  battery." 

Isabel  rallied  in  an  instant. 

"I  think,"  she  said,  "  if  you  will  read  this  you  will  see 
that  he  was  alive  after  the  battle  to  which  you  allude," 
and  she  handed  to  him  Dr.  Edward  Eve's  letter. 

The  secretary  read  it  carefully. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  nodding  his  head  ;  "  I  see  ;  it  may  be 
as  you  say.  Of  course,  I  hope  so,"  handing  it  back  to 
her ;  "  but  officially  he  is  dead.  My  advice  to  you.  Miss 
Priest,  is  to  find  this  Doctor  Eve  ;  that  is  your  surest 
way." 

A  nod  indicated  that  the  interview  was  ended  ;  and  in 
a  few  hours  the  two  ladies  were  on  their  way  south,  the 
powerful  open  sesame  ready  to  remove  obstacles  by  the 
way. 


CHAPTER  LXVI. 

"  Near  Richmond,  January  6,  1S6-. 

"■  My  Dear  Mother  : 

"  Since  my  last  letter,  written  at  Knoxville,  we  have 
passed  through  experiences  strange  and  terrible.  No 
words  can  ever  fitly  describe  what  I  have  beheld  !  Think 
of  our  spending  one  whole  day  in  the  cars  at  Chattanooga 
while  the  fiercest  battle  of  the  war  was  raging  so  near  us 
that  we  heard  every  detonation,  every  explosion  of  shell — 
saw  the  smoke,  behind  which  was  so  much  human  agony, 
rolling  in  billowy  masses  up  the  mountain  side.  Oh,  the 
rush  and  the  roar  and  the  wild  tumult  of  that  day  !  Troops 
endlessly  coming,  disembarking  and  marching  to  cries  of 
'Column  Left!'  'Forward!'  'Double-quick!'  and  a 
thousand  other  unintelligible  commands,  all  mingled  so 
that  we  wondered  any  human  being  could  understand. 
And  then,  above  all  else,  the  whizzing,  hissing  cry  of  the 
shells,  as  if  a  legion  of  fiends  were  rushing  and  shrieking 
in  mid-air.  It  was  hideous  !  And  to  know  that  every 
separate  detonation  and  volley  meant  slaughter,  or  even 
worse,  suft'ering — awful  human  suffering!  To  be  in  it,  it 
seems  to  me,  would  have  been  less  terrible  than  to  sit,  as 
we  did,  in  those  motionless  cars,  and  only  think  a.x\A  feel. 

"Toward  sunset  the  sounds  grew  less  frequent,  dying 
gradually  with  the  day,  until  when  the  stars  came  out 
they  shone  on  a  scene  of  absolute  stillness  ;  and  we  had 
been  told  there  was  a  great  victory  for  our  side.  Alas  ! 
my  patriotism  seemed  dead.  How  could  I  rejoice  at  any- 
thing so  awful  !  Was  anything  worth  such  human  sacri- 
fice ?  This  is  the  question  I  asked  myself  as  Anna  and  I 
went  with  others,  carrying  lanterns,  to  the  battle-field,  to 
see  if  there  might  not  be  some  living  among  the  dead. 

"  I  cannot  dwell  upon  this  now — perhaps  some  day  I  may 
tell  you,  but  not  now.  Enough  to  say  we  rescued  a  Con- 
federate officer,  a  Captain  Arnold,  who  is  now  at  the  hos- 
pital tenderly  cared  for,  instead  of  being  stark  and  dead, 


3l6  THE    STORMY   PETREL. 

as  he  would  have  been  before  morning  if  Anna  and  I  had 
not  discovered  faint  signs  of  life  when  others  insisted 
that  he  was  dead. 

"  And  now  I  come  to  a  strange  part  of  my  story.  We 
found  by  letters  about  Captain  Arnold's  person  that  he  was 
an  intimate  friend  of  Dr.  Edward  Eve,  the  Confederate 
surgeon  for  whom  I  am  looking,  who  alone  can  give  news 
of  Mr.  Clayton. 

"  We  staid  a  week  at  the  hospital  at  Chattanooga,  and  in 
that  time  came  to  know  well  this  Captain  Arnold  whom  we 
had  the  happiness  of  rescuing.  His  recovery  is  doubtful, 
and  he  made  me  his  confidante,  giving  me  letters  and 
remembrances  for  the  young  lady  to  whom  he  is  engaged, 
knowing  that  I  was  going  to  Richmond,  where  Dr.  Eve 
now  is,  and  that  I  would  be  able  to  see  her,  as  she  lives 
just  outside  the  city.  My  acquaintance  with  this  brave 
Confederate  officer  has  done  much  to  widen  my  charity 
and  to  enlarge  my  point  of  view.  Ah  !  Mother,  dear,  tell 
Roland,  the  valor,  the  courage,  the  splendid  devotion  to  a 
principle,  is  not  all  on  our  side.  None  could  exceed  this 
Southern  hero  in  these  qualities ;  and  I  have  come  to  un- 
derstand that  his  cause  is  as  sacred  to  him  as  is  ours  to 
us  ! 

"  To-morrow  we  are  to  see  General  Grant  and  try  in  some 
way  to  communicate  with  Dr.  Edward  Eve,  who  is  within 
the  city,  and  perhaps — our  friend — our  dear  friend — is 
also  there,  in  Libby  Prison.  All  is  vague  until  I  see  Dr, 
Eve — which  God  grant  may  be  soon  ! 

"  Kiss  my  Roland,  and  tell  him  to  embrace  you  for 
"  Your  dearly  loving  daughter, 

"  Isabel." 

"January  8,  186-. 
"  My  Dear  Mother  : 

"  I  write  this  from  a  haven  of  peace  !  We  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  finding  Miss  Henry,  Captain  Kn\o\(.VsJianctfe;  and 
you  may  imagine  our  interview,  in  which  she  learned  of 
her  lover's  narrow  escape  from  death  !  The  gratitude  of 
the  family  knows  no  bounds,  and  they  insisted  that  Anna 
and  I  should  come  to  their  beautiful,  stately  old  home, 
where  we  now  are,  and  where  we  are  treated  like  prin- 
cesses. Mrs.  Henry  is  a  majestic  old  lady,  with  a  soft 
white  lace  cap  resting  on  her  snowy  hair;  and  Miss  Vir- 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  317 

ginia — well,  she  is  all  that  she  should  be,  to  be  the  heroine 
of  this  romance.  If  these  are  typical  Southerners,  I  am 
afraid  I  should  love  them  and  feel  little  like  killing  their 
sons,  and  carrying  the  torch  into  their  households ! 

"Virginia's  story  is  indeed  romantic.  Colonel  Tucker, 
Captain  Arnold's  superior  ofificer,  was  madly  in  love  with 
her  and  insanely  jealous  of  him,  and  there  is  little  doubt 
he  tried  to  sacrifice  him  in  the  hope  of  winning  her.  But 
he  is  foiled;  for  Captain  Arnold  will  not  die,  and  she  will 
yet  be  his  wife, 

"I  have  not  seen  General  Grant,  but  Colonel  Babcock, 
one  of  his  staff,  has  promised  me  that  I  shall  do  so  to- 
morrow. There  is  an  occasional  interchange,  by  flag  of 
truce,  between  the  beleaguered  city  and  the  army  outside, 
and  I  can  by  this  means  get  a  letter  to  Doctor  Eve.  You 
may  think  how  terrible  it  is  when  I  tell  you  that  I  long 
to  hear  that  he  whom  I  seek  is  in  that  dreadful  prison. 

"  I  will  leave  this  open,  and  add  more  to-morrow. 

"  January  9,  ii  p.m. 

"  Mother  darling,  this  has  been  a  weary  and  alas  !  an 
unfruitful  day — a  day  of  strange  experiences,  of  which 
some  time  I  will  tell  you  and  Roland.  Fancy  my  going 
in  an  ambulance  to  a  place  where  there  was  to  be  a  con- 
ference by  flag  of  truce,  in  order  to  meet  General  Grant, 
and  there  having  a  glimpse  of  war  behind  the  scenes,  as  it 
were. 

"It  was  a  smiling,  peaceful  landscape,  with  nothing  to 
indicate  the  presence  of  an  army ;  but  here  and  there, 
from  behind  fresh  mounds  of  earth,  would  now  and  then 
come  a  puff  of  white  smoke,  soon  followed  by  a  loud 
report. 

"I  was  told  we  were  on  the  picket-line,  and  behind 
these  mounds  were  keen,  watchful  eyes,  losing  no  chance 
to  lay  low  an  enemy  who  should  carelessly  expose  him- 
self— taking  deliberate  aim,  and  with  no  more  compunc- 
tion than  if  it  were  a  wild  bird  at  which  they  were  firing! 
Only  think  how  horrible  !  And  then,  at  a  signal  which 
both  sides  understood,  the  firing  ceases,  and  there  is  an 
interval  of  amity,  when  they  meet  half-way,  exchange  gos- 
sip and  tobacco  for  coffee,  sugar,  flour,  etc. ;  and  then, 
at  a  signal,  each  party  betakes  himself  to  his  post,  and  war 
begins  again.     The  eye  that  smiled  and  the  hands  which 


3l8  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

clasped  in  friendly  recognition,  deal  out  death  on  the  first 
opportunity, 

"  We  saw  a  man  waving  a  red  flag  from  a  great  high 
tower,  up  and  down,  right  and  left,  then  fast  and  slow, 
'  Why  does  he  expose  himself  ? '  I  exclaimed.  '  He  will  be 
shot,'  And  sure  enough,  shells  began  to  explode  all  about 
the  tower  where  he  stood.  '  Why  does  he  not  come  away  ? ' 
I  cried.  The  officer  laughed,  and  explained  to  me  that  he 
was  signalling  some  movements  of  troops,  and  would  not 
think  of  deserting  his  post  until  his  message  was  given. 
Then,  taking  his  glass,  he  said,  '  I'll  tell  you  what  he  is 
saying:  'A  small  body  of  men  approaching  from  the 
direction  of  Petersburg  bearing  white  flag.'  Good! 
That's  our  conferees  coming  to  arrange  for  the  exchange 
of  prisoners.' 

"  Before  the  Confederate  officers  arrived  I  saw  General 
Grant.  When,  in  reply  to  his  questions  as  to  how  he 
might  serve  me,  I  said,  '  General,  I  want  to  go  to  Rich- 
mond,'  you  should  have  seen  the  humorous  twinkle 
with  which  he  said,  'And  so  do  I.  ^o you  expect  to  do 
what  I  have  tried  in  vain  to  accomplish  with  a  hundred 
thousand  men,  eh  ?  Thus  far  we  have  only  come  within 
hailing  distance,' 

"  But  he  was  kind ;  and,  to  make  a  long  story  short. 
Dr.  Edward  Eve  had  received  my  letter,  and  when  the 
officers  came,  under  escort  of  the  flag  of  truce,  for  confer- 
ence, he  was  with  them.  Only  think  of  it !  There  I  stood 
face  to  face  with  him.  The  eyes  which  looked  into  mine 
had  seen  him.  Do  you  wonder  I  trembled,  and  that  I 
cannot  now  tell  you  connectedly  what  he  said  .''  But  this 
is  what  it  all  meant.  Colonel  Clayton  was  not  in  Libby 
Prison,  nor  did  Dr.  Eve  know  where  he  was.  He  had  been 
badly  injured  by  a  shell,  and  was  found  at  the  dawn  of 
day  by  the  Confederates  apparently  dead. 

"Then  he  went  on  to  say:  'His  wounds  healed  like 
magic,  but  the  shock  to  his  mind  was  too  great  for  medi- 
cal skill.  I  have  thought  that  there  was  fracture  of 
the  skull,'  he  said,  'but  other  surgeons  examined  the 
wound,  and  disagreed  with  me  ;  so  no  operation  was 
attempted.  When  we  retreated  Colonel  Clayton  was  in 
the  hospital,  though  not  strictly  a  patient  or  a  prisoner. 
In  the  hurry  and  disorder  he  was  missed,  and  no  one 
could  give    any  account  of  him  beyond  the  fact  that  he 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  3I9 

Started  with  the  hospital  wagons ;  but  how  far  he  came,  or 
where  he  went,  no  one  knows.  I  have  made  dihgent  in- 
quiry so  far  as  I  could  inside  our  lines,  but  without  avail.' 
In  answer  to  my  question,  he  said,  '  I  think  the  best 
place  to  look  for  him,  Miss  Priest,  is  where  he  was  last 
seen,  Camp  Hood,  not  far  from  Chattanooga.' 

"  So,  mother  dear,  we  leave  our  kind,  kind  friends  in  the 
morning,  and  go  back  to  Chattanooga  ;  and  beyond  that, 
I  cannot  say. 

"  Yours,  with  an  aching  heart, 

"  Isabel." 


CHAPTER  LXVII. 

Once  more  the  two  brave  women  found  themselves 
under  the'  shadow  of  Lookout  Mountain,  which  rising 
sheer  2,000  feet,  stands  like  a  sugar-loaf  amid  the  billowy 
hills  of  "  Missionary  Ridge,"  while  Chattanooga  crouches 
at  its  feet. 

How  Isabel  would  have  loved  to  take  a  mad  scamper 
on  'J'empest  up  that  steep  road  which  climbed  the  moun- 
tain-side !  But  she  felt  as  if  such  pleasures  were  for  her 
nevermore,  as  they  sadly  returned  to  the  hospital. 

The  surgeon,  Dr.  Crosby,  met  them  kindly,  but  had  no 
news  to  tell  of  Colonel  Clayton,  whom  he  had  been 
instructed  by  them  to  make  inquiries  for  from  all  probable 
sources. 

He  talked  with  Anna  of  his  patients.  "  I  am  glad  you 
are  with  us  again  ;  we  need  your  steady  hand  and  cool 
head,  and  I  do  hope  you  will  stay.  There  is  a  poor 
fellow  who  is  to  be  trepanned  this  afternoon,  who,  I  think, 
I  shall  put  in  your  charge.  It  is  a  strange  case.  He  says 
he  is  a  Confederate  ofificer,  but  we  cannot  make  out  who  or 
what  he  is.  He  is  mad  as  a  March  hare — sometimes 
thinks  he  is  Raphael.  There  is  a  scar  which  leads  me  to 
the  suspicion  that  a  violent  blow  has  caused  a  slight 
fracture  or  depression  of  the  skull,  which  presses  on  the 
brain  ;  at  any  rate,  we  are  going  to  work  on  that  theory  ; 
for  if  he  doesn't  get  relief  soon  he  will  die  in  the  mad- 
house. Now,  will  vou  and  Miss  Priest  walk  through  the 
wards  ?  "  ' 

Anna  called  her  friend,  who  was  wistfully  looking  out 
of  the  window  at  a  cloud-wreath,  which  encircled  the 
head  of  Lookout  Mountain.  Sighing  wearily,  she  turned 
and  listlessly  followed  them  into  the  other  parts  of  the 
building. 

Doctor  Crosby  explained  the  different  cases  as  they 
passed  along  the  double  row  of  white  cots — but  Isabel 
heard  only  words — words — words.  She  felt  as  if  her 
sympathies  were  becoming  benumbed,  under  the  tension 


THE   STORMY    PETREL.  32 1 

of  her  overstrained  nerves.  Finally  he  paused  at  a  door 
and  said  :  "Now  I  will  show  you  the  patient  I  told  you 
of,  Miss  Plant,"  and  turning  the  key  he  opened  the  door. 
Alone  in  the  room,  there  stood  a  tall,  haggard-looking 
man  in  Confederate  uniform — pencil  in  hand,  with  rapt 
expression,  wholly  unconscious  of  their  presence. 

With  a  wild  cry  and  a  swift  movement,  Isabel  was  at 
his  side. 

"My  beloved!"  she  said,  seizing  his  hand.  "My 
beloved,  it  is  I — Isabtl — look  at  me  !  "' 

The  wild  eyes  turned  upon  her  without  a  ray  of  recogni- 
vion. 

"  Frank,"  she  went  on,  in  heart-rending  tone,  "don't 
you  know  me  ?  I  am  your  Belle — your  '  Belle,  with  the 
silver  tongue' — }our  'Priestess!' — Look  at  nie — you 
called  me  to  come  to  you,  dear,  and  I  am  heie;  try  to 
remember  !  " 

"  I  ought  to  know  you,"  he  answered,  with  a  troubled 
look  ;  "  I  ought  to  know  you.  But,  oh  !  "  and  the  blood 
surged  into  his  face  and  throat,  "oh  !  this  Vesuvius  in  my 
brain  !  '"  and  loosening  his  hand  from  her  grasp,  he  put 
both  his  own  despairingly  on  his  head. 

Isabel  slipped  down  upon  the  floor  at  his  feet  in  a  dead 
swoon,  and  was  carried  away  unconscious  and  laid  upon 
her  own  bed,  where  her  friend  tenderly  tried  to  restore 
her. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  effort  at  recognition  had  been  too 
much  for  the  unfortunate  man,  and  he  was  raving  like  a 
maniac  and  imploring  to  have  the  volcano  opened  tiiat 
the  hot  lava  surging  in  his  brain  might  escape. 

Doctor  Crosby  made  immediate  preparations  for  the 
operation,  Miss  Plant  in  the  meantime  watching  bv  the 
still  unconscious  Isabel.  After  a  long  time,  the  eyelids 
trembled  and  the  breath  began  to  come  softly;  then  the 
eyes  opened  and  she  realized  what  had  happened. 

"  Now  lie  perfectly  quiet,  dear,"  said  Anna,  putting  a 
hand  firmly  upon  her  arm. 

"  I  must  go  to  him,"  said  Isabel,  feebly.  Then  realiz- 
ing the  detaining  hand  of  her  friend,  she  said  :  "  Anna, 
let  me  go  to  him  ;  I  can  bear  it  ;  I  will  be  perfectly  calm 
— biit  I  must  see  him." 

"Listen,"  said  her  friend,  very  quietly.  "  you  cannot  go 
now,  dear;  by  and  by  you  shall;  but  he  must  be  quiet 


322  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

now,  and  for  his  sake  you  must  stay  here.  Now  take  this 
valerian." 

Isabel  no  longer  resisted  ;  she  took  the  draught,  then 
fell  back  on  the  pillow,  white  and  still  as  if  she  were  dead. 

After  some  time.  Miss  Plant  softly  arose  and  left  her 
alone,  going  to  seek  information  of  Colonel  Clayton's 
condition,  thinking  the  operation  must  by  this  time  be 
over.     The  doctor  smiled  reassuringly  when  he  saw  her. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "it  was  just  as  I  thought;  there  was  a 
pressure  on  the  brain  ;  and,  do  you  know,  the  instant  that 
was  relieved  he  took  up  his  life  precisely  at  the  moment 
he  was  injured,  and  sprang  to  his  feet  grasping  a  long 
knife  from  the  table  and  wildly  waving  it  above  his 
head,  cried  '  Charge  !  I  sa}^,  charge  !  and  give  them  a 
taste  of  cold  steel  ! '  Then  he  fell  back  as  if  he  were 
dead.  Now  he  is  asleep,  and  I  think  he  will  awake  as 
sane  as  you  or  I." 

*'  Oh,  how  wonderful  it  is  !  "  exclaimed  Anna.  "  To 
think  she  has  found  him  at  last.  Doctor!  It  was  all  I 
could  do,"  she  went  on,  "  to  keep  her  quiet  after  she 
came  to  herself.     She  said  she  must  see  him." 

"Well,  I  think  there  will  be  no  harm  in  her  seeing  him 
when  he  awakens;  you  may  tell  her  so,  and  then  she  will 
be  more  contented.  But  I  want  you  to  take  entire 
charge  of  his  case.  You  understand,  Miss  Plant?  My 
impression  is  he  will  have  no  fever  and  will  come  right 
up  ;  but  she  is  in  no  condition  just  now  to  nurse  any  one, 
poor  child  !  " 

Anna  returned  with  a  look  of  joy  on  her  sympathetic 
face  and  told  Isabel  the  good  news,  who,  after  the 
strange  fashion  of  her  sex,  threw  herself  into  her  friend's 
arms  and  burst  into  a  fit  of  hysterical  weeping.  It 
seemed  as  if  her  very  heart  were  dissolving  in  tears — the 
long  tension  was  over — nature  found  this  mode  of  relief 
— and  now  a  heavenly  calm  pervaded  her  being,  and  she 
lay  with  closed  eyes  on  the  bed. 

Again  she  was  left  alone,  as  Anna  went  to  inquire 
about  the  condition  of  the  patient.  When  she  returned  a 
half-hour  later,  Isabel  had  arisen  and  was  coiling  her 
long  hair  about  her  shapely  head.  She  looked  quickly 
into  Anna's  eyes  to  read  the  news  they  bore,  and  smiled 
serenely  at  what  she  saw  there. 

"  He  is  sleeping  quietly  as  a  child,"  said  Anna,  "and 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  323 

the  doctor  says,  dear,  you  may  go  and  sit  in  the  room  if 
you  will  keep  out  of  his  sight  should  he  awaken,  and  on 
no  account  speak  to  him  until  the  doctor  gives  you  per- 
mission." 


CHAPTER  LXVIII. 

For  hours  he  slept  on,  all  unconscious  who  was  watch- 
ing him.  And  she — of  what  did  she  think,  as  she  sat 
with  hands  tightly  clasped,  lips  parted,  her  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  face  she  had  so  longed  to  see  ?  She  had  time 
to  recall  it  all,  in  those  silent  hours — the  meeting  on  the 
prairie — the  night  by  the  camp-fire — then  his  sudden  ap- 
parition at  Coultersville  ;  the  rides — the  walks — on  the 
mountain-side ;  the  sure  growth  of  that  love,  which  had 
now  usurped  supreme  control  in  her  life — the  rapture  of 
hearing  and  knowing  that  he  loved  her — her  own  cruel 
folly  in  throwing  away  the  happiness — the  long  days  and 
nights  and  months  of  repinings  and  regrets — the  torture 
of  apprehension  lest  he  be  killed.  Then — that  summons 
in  the  darkness — that  supplicating  voice — the  out- 
stretched arms — at  the  very  moment  he  was  lying  almost 
in  death  agony,  alone  under  the  stars — and  now — he  was 
there  !  "  Oh,  God  !  how  merciful  !  "  she  murmered  again 
and  again. 

The  soflly-shaded  lamp  was  lighted — and  still  he  slept 
on,  the  doctor  looking  in  at  intervals  to  see  if  all  was 
well.  A  little  after  eight  o'clock  he  stirred  as  if 
about  to  awaken.  Isabel's  heart  stood  still — and  then 
beat  so  she  feared  he  would  hear  it.  His  eyes  opened, 
and  he  lay  calmly  looking  into  space.  The  doctor 
entered,  quietly  felt  his  pulse  and  temperature,  and  said 
nothing. 

Clayton  looked  at  him  a  moment  in  silence,  and  then 
said  : 

"  Where  am  I  ?  " 

"At  the  hospital." 

"  I  thought  so."  Then  a  pause.  "  How  did  the  battle 
go  to-day  ?  " 

"  They  beat  us,"  answered  the  doctor,  knowing  what 
that  "  to-day  "  meant. 

Clayton  sighed  and  said  nothing.  After  another 
pause  : 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  325 

"  Am  I  badly  hurt?  " 

"  No  ;  stunned  by  a  shell." 

"Then  I  must  go  on  with  the  old  round,  eh?  I  must 
live  on  ? 

"  Yes." 

Clayton  again  sighed  deeply,  and  was  silent. 

"  I  am  glad  I  didn't  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy," 
said  he,  after  a  long  pause.  "  I  suppose  my  boys  took 
care  of  me  ?  " 

The  doctor  nodded,  and  there  was  another  silence,  as 
he  dropped  out  medicines  and  arranged  powders. 

"  Doctor,"  said  the  patient  at  last,  with  sudden  impul- 
siveness, "  some  of  those  rascally  rebels  have  taken  away 
a  small  packet,  an  amulet,  which  I  wore  always  suspended 
about  my  neck.  The  chain  is  here  all  right,"  said  he, 
putting  his  hand  to  his  neck,  "  but  the  anuilet  is  gone — 
and  I  would  rather  they  had  taken  my  life." 

"  I'm  sorry  for  that,"  said  the  doctor,  dropping  the 
white  liquid  very  steadily  into  a  tumbler.  "Now,  Miss 
Plant,  some  water,  please." 

Frank  watched  him.  "  I  suppose  people  usually  are 
glad  when  you  bring  them  to  life,  eh.  Doctor  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  they  are,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Miss  Plant, 
give  this  one  first,  then  the  other,  every  half-hour,  until 
he  sleeps  ;  but  don't  awaken  him  on  any  account." 

Frank's  eyes  were  still  fixed  upon  him. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  have  any  medicine  which  can  give  a 
man   interest  in  life — which  can  create  a  desire  to  live." 

The  doctor's  eyes  rested  upon  his  with  a  strange  look 
of  amusement,  as  he  said  :  "  Why,  yes  ;  I  think  I  have 
precisely  that  medicine,"  and  witli  a  look  of  invitation  to 
the  waiting  girl,  he  and  Miss  Plant  quickly  left  the  room, 
closing  the  door  after  them — and — Isabel — ^stood  before 
Frank's  bewildered  e3'es. 

He  gazed  at  her  as  one  paralyzed — motion  and  speech 
impossible — then  putting  his  hand  to  his  head,  he  said  : 

"  Am  I  mad  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  she  said,  sinking  upon  her  knees  and  laying 
her  head  upon  his  breast  ;  "  you  are  not  mad.  It  is  I — 
it  is  Isabel.  Don't  speak — not  a  Avord,"  and  she  lifted 
her  face,  placing  her  finger  on  his  lips,  "  because  you  are 
ill,  dear;  "  and  then,  with  a  divinely  lovely  smile  shining 
through  her  tears,   "  and  unless   you  do  just  as  I  say  I 


320  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

shall  go  away.  Now,  listen — I've  come  thousands  of 
miles  to  tell  you  something — and  I  have  been  thinking  all 
the  way — what  I  should  say.  So  now  keep  perfectly 
still  and  listen." 

Again  she  laid  her  head  on  his  breast,  where  she  heard 
his  heart  beating  so  wildly  ;  then  in  the  same  low  voice 
went  on  : 

"  I  was  very  cruel  that  day  when  I  let  you  go  away 
alone — very  cruel  to  you,  and  to  myself.  I  repented  when 
it  was  too  late — and  I  have  been  so  unhappy — oh  !  so 
miserable,  dear — and  now — I  have  come  to  you — and  if 
you  will  let  me  stay — I  will  never — never — leave  you 
any  more." 

"  If  I  will  let  you  stay  ?  let  you  stay  ?  "  said  he,  in  a 
voice  suffocating  with  joy.  His  arms  folded  her  closer, 
closer  to  his  heart.  "  Oh,  my  dear  one,  it  seems  as  if 
I  must  die  with  this  happiness  !  " 

Many  times  Doctor  Crosby  and  Miss  Plant  paused  out- 
side that  door  and  listened  to  the  murmur  of  voices  within. 
At  last,  as  the  clock  struck  ten,  the  doctor  was  remorse- 
less and  went  in  quite  as  he  would  make  his  final  evening 
call  upon  any  other  of  his  patients. 

"Well,"  he  said,  brightly  smiling  at  the  transformed 
look  in  the  sick  man's  face,  "I  think  my  prescription 
has  worked  pretty  well — you  don't  look  as  if  you  wanted 
to  die  just  this  moment." 

"Ah,  Doctor,"  said  Clayton,  "it  vi3.s  earth  I  was  tired 
of,  and  this,'"  turning  with  a  look  of  unutterable  joy 
toward  Isabel,  "this  is  Heaven  !" 

The  doctor's  glasses  needed  wiping  for  some  reason, 
and  at  the  same  moment  he  looked  about  for  some  one  to 
scold. 

"  I  suppose.  Miss  Priest — you — you  have  not  forgotten 
to  give  the  medicine — one  teaspoonful  every  half- 
hour?" 

Isabel  gave  a  little  cry  of  alarm  as  she  guiltily  sprang 
to  her  feet.     "  What  had  she  done  .?  " 

"  No  ?  "  said  the  doctor.  "  Humph — well,  I  suppose  not. 
I  see  we  shall  have  to  depose  you.  Now,  Miss  Plant," 
turning  to  that  young  lady,  "  I  place  you  in  charge,  and 
I  want  this  young  man  to  have  at  least  eight  or  nine  solid 
hours  of  sleep  to-night — do  you  hear  ?  " 


THE   STORMY   PETREL,  327 

"O  Doctor,"  said  Clayton,  clinging  to  Isabel's  hand, 
"  don't  send  her  away  !  " 

Isabel  rose  resolutely,  saying  :  "  You  are  right,  quite 
right.  Doctor."  Then  stooping,  she  whispered,  "  It  is 
better  so.  Good-night,  dear  love."  And  Clayton's  eyes 
hungrily  followed  her  till  she  had  vanished. 

Clayton  could  hardly  realize,  when  told  by  the  surgeon, 
that  he  had  been  for  months  unconscious,  and  that 
many  battles  had  been  fought  and  won  since  the 
engngement  of  "  yesterday  "  when  he  fell  in  the  face  of 
the  enemy,  and  passed  through  their  hands  to  the  hos- 
pital where  then  he  rested. 

There  was  a  feeling  of  vague  curiosity  in  the  hospital 
the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  at  mysterious  preparations 
which  were  going  on  in  the  room  of  Colonel  Clayton.  A 
large  basket  of  flowers  and  trailing  vines  was  seen  to  go 
in  there ;  and  when  the  chaplain  accompanied  by  the 
doctor  disappeared  within,  followed  soon  after  by  Miss 
Plant  accompanied  by  Miss  Priest,  with  a  cluster  of  great 
white  roses  at  her  waist  and  another  lying  in  her  beauti- 
ful dark  hair,  the  closed  door  was  watched  by  curious  and 
wondering  eyes. 

It  was  even  as  they  suspected,  and  as  Doctor  Crosby 
looked  at  the  girl  who  sat  at  the  bedside  clasping  his  pa- 
tient's hand,  he  thought  he  had  never  seen  a  lovelier 
bride. 


CHAPTER  LXIX. 

"  Camp  near  Knoxville,  Feb.  8,  186- 

"  My  Darling  Mother  : — 

"  Here  we  are  at  last,  at  the  headquarters  of  Frank's 
regiment,  where  he  has  come  to  estabUsh  the  fact  that  he 
is  aUve. 

"  Such  a  strange  complication  has  grown  out  of  his  re- 
ported death,  and  it  was  like  surviving  himself  to  come 
here  and  see  the  vacancy  filled — a  new  officer  in  com- 
mand of  his  regiment,  and  a  long  list  of  promotions 
which  would  be  made  void  by  his  unlooked-for  return. 

"  There  was  such  a  strange  scene  when  he  met  his 
friend,  Captain  Jack — a  glorious  fellow,  with  such  a 
brave  great  honest  heart  shining  out  of  his  deep-blue 
eyes.  Of  course  he  had  mourned  Frank  as  dead,  and  if 
you  could  have  seen  his  expression  when  he  beheld  him  ! 
and  how  they  embraced  like  two  girls  !  And  then  how 
that  great,  manly  fellow  struggled  to  control  his  voice, 
which  would  break  in  spite  of  his  efforts,  as  he  said,  '  I 
am  rejoiced  to  see  you,  but  some  of  the  others  will  not  be 
so  glad,  Fm  afraid.' 

"  The  rapidity  of  Frank's  recovery  has  been  almost  mi- 
raculous. But  you  may  imagine  my  joy  in  the  near  ap- 
proach of  peace,  which  will  make  it  unnecessary  for  him 
to  be  exposed  again  to  such  perils. 

"  I  can  scarcely  wait  for  your  letter  in  reply  to  mine  an- 
nouncing our  marriage.  But  I  know  perfectly,  dearest 
mother,  that  you  and  Roland  will  approve,  and  that  you 
will  acquiesce  in  Frank's  new  plan  that  you  should  join 
us  at  The  Glen,  which  he  has  repurchased.  Frank's 
cousin  Kate  is  having  the  dear  old  place  renovated,  under 
his  directions,  and  we  will  live  in  the  house  so  sacred  to 
him,  so  associated  with  the  mother  he  adored  and  the 
grandfather  he  so  venerated. 

"  Only  think,  we  were  married  with  his  mother's  wedding- 
ring,  which  Frank  has  always  worn.     Everything  was  so 


THE    STORMY    PETREL. 


329 


sudden  ;  no  one  liad  thought  of  the  ring  until  just  at  the 
last  moment.     Then  Frank  took  this  from  his  finger,  and 
found  it  fitted  me   precisel)'.     Oh !   it  was  all  so  strange 
and  so  beautiful  !     And,  mother,  we  are  so  happy  1 
"  Your  more  than  ever  fond  daughter, 

"  Isabel.  Clayton." 

"Willard's  Hotel,  Washington,  April  14,  1865. 
"  My  Dear  Mother  : — 

"We  have  been  here  three  days,  still  arranging  the 
tiresome  matter  about  Frank's  reported  death.  Of  course 
he  wants  his  papers  certifying  to  an  '  honorable  dis- 
charge,' dated  from  the  close  of  the  war,  while  they  are, 
in  fact,  dated  by  mistake  from  the  time  of  his  injury  or. 
supposed  death.  It  is  all  such  a  stupid  piece  of  circum- 
locution, but  will  be  made  right  in  a  day  or  two,  and  then 
we  go  to  New  York  and  await  the  arrival  of  Frank's 
friend  Claude  ;  and  after  that  immediately  West.  Petrel 
is  with  friends  of  Frank's  in  St.  Louis.  Her  marriage  is, 
after  all,  to  take  place  inuiiediately  upon  Count  Davila's 
arrival,  in  May.  Frank  thought  they  had  better  wait  un- 
til she  is  nineteen,  but  this  impetuous  fellow  sweeps  all  ob- 
stacles away.  I  am  sure  he  must  be  interesting  and  that 
we  shall  be  the  best  of  friends.  And  as  for  his  Petrella 
— why,  I  adore  her  already. 

"  We  go  to  the  theatre  to-night.  I  hear  the  President  is 
to  be  there,  and  to  tell  the  truth,  it  is  more  to  see  him 
than  the  play  that  I  am  going. 

"  Your  fond  daughter, 

"  Isabel  Clayton. 

"April  15 — I  have  opened  this  to  add  such  terrible 
words  !  You  will  have  heard  before  this  reaches  you  of  the 
awful  deed  committed  last  night,  and  which  we  witnessed  ! 
Oh  !  what  a  moment  it  was  !  We  sat  where  we  could  look 
directly  into  the  President's  box.  He  leaned  forward  to 
speak  to  the  young  lady  sitting  in  the  front  of  the  box. 
I  said,  '  Frank,  look  at  him  now  ;  that  is  just  the  way  he 
looked  that  day  when  he  whispered  "  Tell  Colonel  Clay- 
ton I  think  he  ought  to  be  "  ' — Before  I  had  uttered  the 
words,  there  was  a  flash  and  a  report ;  a  man  leaped 
wildly  from  the  box  to  the  stage ;  and  they  were  holding 


330  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

up  the  President's  apparently  lifeless  form.     Then  a  cry 

and  a  tumult : 

"  '  He's  shot !     The  President  is  shot ! '  ^' 

"  Oh,  my  God,  what  a  scene  !     Frank   placed  me  in  a 

carriage  and  sent  me  here,  while  he  waited  to  learn  the 

end.     It  was  one    o'clock  when    he    came   in  with   the 

solemn,  awful  words  : 

"  '  Isabel,  the  President  is  dead ! ' " 


CHAPTER  LXX. 

Petrel's  marriage  was  fixed  for  the  last  day  in  May. 
Count  Davila  was  expected  to  arrive  in  New  York  by  tlie 
steamer  from  Havre  about  the  5th  ;  so  there  Frank  and 
Isabel  awaited  him,  that  they  might  all  go  West  together. 
It  was  long  since  the  friends  had  met,  and  how  much  had 
happened  to  both  since  they  last  looked  in  each  other's 
eyes  !  With  what  pride  and  happiness  Frank  presented 
his  beautiful  wife  need  not  be  told,  nor  how  her  sweet, 
gracious  tact  soon  captured  the  enthusiastic  Claude,  who 
said  : 

"  Ah,  my  friend,  it  is  no  wonder  you  were  miserable 
when  you  think  you  have  lost  this  lovely,  this  glorious 
woman  !  She  is  magiiijiqiie  f  You  must  bring  her  to  Italy 
to  see  us,  my  Petrella  and  me  ;  and  I  will  astonish,  yes, 
surprise,  those  people,  when  I  show  them  these  beautiful 
Ainericainesr 

The  wheels  could  not  turn  fast  enough  to  suit  the  mood 
of  this  returning  lover;  and  had  Frank  not  been  so  fond 
of  her  himself,  the  name  of  Petrella  might  have  become  a 
weariness  before  they  reached  St.  Louis,  where  they  were 
to  meet  her.  But  while  Claude  went  immediately  on, 
Frank  and  Isabel  determined  to  carry  out  a  long-antici- 
pated plan  of  stopping,  and  visiting  the  old  colony  of 
freedmen  at  what  was  now  known  as  Claytonville. 

John  Stanley  and  Sam  met  them  at  the  landing,  and 
there  was  much  to  hear  and  to  tell  as  they  drove  out  to 
the  settlement,  which  was  in  a  tremendous  excitement 
over  the  event  of  the  arrival,  and  no  royal  visitors  could 
have  been  treated  with  more  demonstrations  of  loyalty. 
Frank  was  received  as  a  reigning  prince  and  worshipped 
as  a  saviour.  A  holiday  was  proclaimed,  the  town  dressed 
with  wreaths  and  triumphal  arches,  while  Uncle  Ned 
headed  a  procession  which  met  them,  and  made  a  speech 
of  welcome;  and  Aunt  Eliza  clasped  Frank's  knees  and 
wept,  and  kissed  the  beautiful  wife's  hands  again  and 
again.     Never  had  Isabel  imagined  such  an  experience  j 


332  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

and  looking  inio  her  husband's  eyes  that  night  she  said, 
with  an  expression  of  profound  humility  : 

"  How  honored  I  feel  by  your  love.  Your  life  is  de- 
voted to  making  others  happy — and  /  thought  you 
were  not  good  enough  for  me  !  What  contempt  you 
must  have  felt  for  me  !  " 

Petrel  was  waiting  for  them  at  the  station,  and,  of 
course,  Claude  with  her.  One  carriage  seldom  holds 
four  people  so  completely  happy  as  the  one  which  con- 
veyed them  to  the  hotel  that  lovely  afternoon. 

Frank  looked  at  his  ward,  actually  dazzled  by  her  brill- 
iant loveliness. 

"  Why,  Petrel,"  he  said,  holding  both  her  hands  and 
looking  into  her  face  as  they  rolled  along,  "  I  cannot  be- 
lieve it  is  you." 

Claude  had  had  a  similar  surprise  on  his  own  arrival, 
and  watched  with  delight  Frank's  looks  of  admiration. 

"It's  all  because  I'm  so  happy,  Uncle  Frank,"  the 
young  girl  whispered  in  his  ear;  and  neither  of  the  others 
were  jealous  when  he  put  his  arm  around  her  and  kissed 
her  on  one  rosy  cheek. 

Petrel  and  Isabel  were  close  friends  in  an  instant. 

"  Wiiat  am  I  to  call  you  ?  "  said  Petrel,  shyly.  "  Aunt 
Isabel  would  be  so  absurd ;  yon  look  like  my  older  sister. 
And,"  she  said,  with  a  pretty  blush,  as  they  stood  together 
in  Isabel's  room,  before  dinner,  "  how  beautiful  you  are!  " 
Then,  with  her  arms  encircling  her  waist,  "  No  wonder 
Uncle  Frank  was  unhappy  !  Why,  do  you  know,  dear,  it 
used  to  break  my  heart  to  look  into  his  sad  face,  and — 
may  I  tell  you  ?  And — I  did  not  like  you  at  all — because 
you  had  made  him  suffer  so." 

"  You  dear,  frank  child,"  said  the  young  wife,  laughing 
such  a  gay,  happy  laugh  ;  "  you  could  not  have  thought  as 
bad  things  of  me  as  I  did  of  myself.  But  I  shall  tell  you 
all  about  it.  Ah,  there  is  so  much  to  tell  and  to  hear — 
and  only  two  short  weeks  !  " 

"  Yes,  but  you  know,  Claude  will  bring  me  home  again 
next  summer,  and  then,  he  says,  you  are  coming  to  visit 
us  next  winter.  Oh,  how  beautiful  it  all  is!"  and  she 
clasped  her  hands  in  a  kind  of  rapture,  at  the  excess  of 
joy  which  had  come  into  her  life. 


CHAPTER  LXXI. 

But,  alas  !  these  were  halcyon  hours.  That  very  even- 
ing Martha,  Petrel's  faithful  maid,  was  taken  ill  with  a 
cold.  Fever  set  in  ;  the  doctor  came,  and  pronounced  it 
pneumonia  of  the  most  fatal  type  ;  and  two  days  later  she 
breathed  her  last  in  Petrel's  arms. 

The  poor  girl  was  overwhelmed  with  grief,  which  even 
Claude  could  not  console.  She  reproached  herself,  think- 
ing in  the  preoccupation  of  her  own  happiness  she  had 
not  realized  the  severity  of  the  cold,  and  said  again  and 
again  :     "  I  was  selfish  !    and  perhaps  I  neglected  her." 

With  a  premonition  of  her  approaching  death,  Martha 
had  indicated  where  she  wished  to  be  buried  ;  and  there, 
with  many  tears,  they  laid  her,  with  the  solemn  rites  of  the 
Catholic  Church. 

The  day  succeeding  the  funeral,  Petrel  busied  herself 
sadly,  collecting  all  her  dear  nurse's  clothing  and  little 
treasures,  packing  them  safel}'^  away  as  something  sacred. 
She  stopped  to  read  now  and  then  some  letters  of  her 
own  or  her  Uncle  Frank's,  recalling  the  time  and  circum- 
stances with  sad  retrospection. 

One  letter  of  her  uncle's  she  was  about  to  destroy  with 
others  when  a  line,  which  she  idly  read,  turned  her  to 
stone.     It  was  this  : 

"  It  is  but  right  that  you,  as  her  mother,  should  decide 
whether  this  marriage  shall  take  place  ;  and  I  shall  delay 
my  reply  to  Count  Davila  until  I  hear  from  you.  God 
forgive  me  !  but  when  I  saw  her  place  that  rosebud  in  the 
hand  of  her  dead  father,  I  had  bitter  thoughts  of  that 
cruel  man  which  even  death  could  not  efface." 

Petrel  could  not  move,  but  sat  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon 
those  cruel  words,  going  over  them  again  and  again  until 
they  seemed  burned  into  her  very  brain. 

Then  she  tried  to  stand,  and  supporting  herself  by  the 
furniture,  reached  the  door  and  locked  and  bolted  it;  then 


334 


THE    STORMY    PETREL. 


fell  prone  upon  the  floor  in  a  paroxysm  of  despair.  She 
knew  not  how  long  she  laid  there.  After  a  time  some  one 
knocked,  then  tried  the  door ;  and  she  kept  perfectly  still. 
Again  she  heard  a  light  step  outside  and  Isabel's  voice 
said  : 

"  Petrel !  Petrel,  dear  !  " 

But  all  was  still  as  the  grave.  It  was  growing  dark, 
and  now  there  were  two  persons  outside,  and  her  Uncle 
Frank's  voice  said  : 

"  Are  you  there,  Petrel  ?  " 

What  should  she  do  .''  She  gathered  all  her  forces, 
arose,  and  went  to  the  door. 

"  Please,  Uncle  Frank,  do  not  ask  to  come  in  ;  I  cannot 
see  any  one  now." 

"  Are  you  ill  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  I  want  to  be  alone.     Please  go  away." 

"  But,  my  child,  we  are  anxious  about  you." 

"  I  am  not  ill ;  don't  be  anxious  ;  only  please  let  me  be 
alone  for  a  while." 

Her  voice  sounded  so  strange  to  herself !  Later,  Isa- 
bel's again  said  : 

"Dearest,  I  have  brought  you  a  cup  of  tea  and  some 
toast.  I  will  not  come  in  if  you  do  not  want  me,  but  you 
must  take  this — for  our  sakes,  dear." 

The  door  was  opened,  and  a  cold  little  hand  received 
the  tray,  and  drawing  it  into  the  room  again  locked  the 
door. 

But  the  hardest  trial  was  when  she  heard  the  step  of 
her  lover.     How  well  she  knew  it ! 

"  Petrella,  may  I  not  speak  with  you  ?  For  just  one 
moment  ?     You  will  not  deny  me  that." 

The  distracted  girl  went  to  the  door  and  said,  so  that 
he  could  just  hear  it : 

"  Claude,  if  you  love  me,  you  will  not  ask  me  to  see 
any  one  to-night." 

She  groped  her  way  in  the  darkness  to  where  the 
matches  were  kept,  and  lighted  the  gas;  then  picked  up 
the  letter  which  lay  on  the  floor,  and  read  again  the  words 
which  had  destroyed  her  happiness  forever.  What  ravages 
those  ten  hours  of  suffering  had  made  already!  She 
smiled  bitterly  as  she  saw  her  reflection  in  the  ghiss. 

"  Countess,  indeed  !  "  she  said,  with  scornful  emphasis. 
"  / — child  of  a  slave — and  then — oh  !  the  shame  of  it !  " 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  335 

said  she,  shuddering,  as  slie  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands.  "  The  shame  of  it !  Worse  than  nameless  !  I,  to 
be  the  daughter  of  the  Countess  Giuletta  !  And  some 
day — when  he — when  Claude  knows — see  his  cheek 
crimson  with  mortitication  at  his  wife's  disgrace  !  O 
God,  there's  no  place  for  me  here.  I  am  a  blot  upon 
existence.  Where  shall  I  go  ?  What  must  I  do  ? — I  must 
think." 

And  alone  she  tried,  poor  child,  to  arrange  the  cruel 
problem  of  her  existence — sitting,  for  she  knew  not  how 
long,  motionless — her  eyes  fixed  on  space. 

Sometimes  in  the  stillness  which  now  wrapped  the  hotel 
she  heard  a  soft  footstep  outside.  Was  it  the  porter — 
the  night  watchman — or  was  it  Claude — or  Isabel — watch- 
ing the  light  streaming  through  the  cracks  of  her  door  ? 

At  last  she  got  up — opened  her  desk.  "It  is  the  only 
way,"  she  said  ;  "  the  only  way,"  and  her  trembling 
hand  wrote,  folded  and  directed  three  letters.  One  was 
addressed  to  Frank  Clayton,  the  other  to  Claude,  and 
another  to 

"John  Wilson, 

"  Superintendent  of  Riverview  Cemetery, 

"  St.  Louis,  Mo." 

She  opened  her  check-book,  and  filling  out  a  check  put 
it  into  the  last-named  letter.  Then,  selecting  a  few  things 
from  her  wardrobe,  packed  a  small  handbag. 

With  a  trembling  hand  she  unloj:ked  a  trunk  and  took 
out  a  red  Morocco  case,  with  crest  and  monogram  on  the 
cover — she  could  not  resist  the  temptation — opened  it 
once  more  and  gazed  at  the  two  beautiful  faces  ;  then 
closed  it,  as  if  it  were  a  coffin  closing  upon  the  dead. 

Another  miniature  she  gazed  at  with  despair  and  love 
in  her  eyes. 

"  Why  should  I  not  keep  that  ?  Oh,  my  beloved,"  she 
said,  bursting  into  an  agony  of  weeping,  "my  beloved; 
you  will  sufifer  too — but  it  is  better  so  !  " 

The  eyes  looked  out  at  her  so  kindl}',  that  a  wild  hope 
came  into  her  heart.  She  imagined  herself  telling  him, 
and  his  saying:  "What  do  I  care  for  that  ?  Do  you  not 
know  that  nothing  could  make  me  give  you  up  ?  "  She 
almost  felt  as  if  she  heard  him  say  these  blessed  words ; 


SS6  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

but  no,  he  was  so  noble,  so  honorable  ;  he  might  refuse 
to  release  her,  but  none  the  less  he  would  feel  humiliated. 
No — no — no  ;  it  must  all  go.  Her  ring — ah  !  that  was 
the  hardest — all  together,  in  one  package — and  then 
addressed  to 

"  COUNT  CLAUDIUS  DAVILLA." 


CHAPTER  LXXII. 

The  gray  dawn  was  creeping  into  the  window,  making 
the  gas  look  sickly  and  pale.  She  put  it  out,  and  threw 
herself  down  upon  the  bed  in  utter  exhaustion,  just  as 
she  was,  in  her  dressing-gown.  She  was  awakened  by 
hearing  a  voice  at  her  door.  The  room  was  flooded 
with  brilliant  sunlight.     It  was  Isabel. 

"  Petrella,  darling,  I  have  brought  a  cup  of  coffee. 
Will  you  let  me  give  it  to  you  ?  " 

She  rose,  and  took  the  tray  as  before.  A  dozen  rose- 
buds, fresh,  cool,  and  dewy,  lay  beside  her  coffee-cup. 
Their  fragrance  smote  her  with  such  strange  anguish  ! 

"  May  I  not  come  in,  dear  ?  " 

Petrel  was  about  to  yield,  when  she  saw  the  letters  and 
package  on  her  desk. 

"  EVear  Isabel,"  she  said  gently,  "please  do  not  think 
badly  of  me — but — I  cannot  let  you  come  in  now.  Come 
back  in  about  two  hours,  and  I  will  see  you." 

"Very  well,  dear.  I  need  not  tell  you  who  the  flowers 
are  from.  Poor  fellow  I  He  was  out  hours  ago,  before 
the  shops  were  open,  to  get  them  for  v-ou." 

Isabel  reported  to  Claude  and  Frank  the  promise  Petrel 
had  given. 

"And  now  you  must  take  some  breakfast,  too,"  she 
playfully  said  to  Claude.  "  I  declare,  I  believe  you 
spent  the  whole  night  in  that  hall,  and  3'ou  look  ill  your- 
self this  morning.  There,  drink  this  coffee.  I  assure 
you,  it  is  just  as  we  told  you  ;  she  is  simply  nervous,  and 
overcome  by  the  shock  of  Martha's  death,  and  then  ar- 
ranging her  things  yesterday,  revived  recollections.  She 
is  a  tender,  sensitive  child,  and  you  will  have  to  take 
good  care  of  her,  Claude.  You  must  cherish  her  care- 
fully." 

"  Ah  I   will  I  not  ?  "  said  he,  smiling  rapturously. 

At  precisely  the  time  appointed,  Isabel  returned.  She 
found  the  door  unlocked,  and  Petrel  sitting  in  an  easy- 
chair,  carefully  dressed  and  perfectly  calm. 


;^^8  THE    STORMY    PETREL, 

" Why,  my  darling  giil,"  she  said,  embracing  her. 
Then  looking  at  her  pallid  face,  her  strange,  haggard  ex- 
pression, she  added,  anxiously  :  "  You  are  making  your- 
self ill,  dear  ;  it  is  wrong  to  grieve  so ;  of  course  it  is  nat- 
ural that  you  should  feel  sorrow,  but  not  to  give  way  to  it 
in  such  excess,  Wh}',  my  child,  your  hands  are  like  ice. 
Let  me  warm  them.  Did  you  drink  your  coffee  ?  Yes  .-' 
Well,  now,  for  the  sake  of  others,  you  must  be  brave  ; 
you  must  think  of  Claude's  happiness." 

"I  am  thinking  of  nothing  else,"  said  the  miserable 
girl,  hopeless  tears  coursing  down  her  cheeks. 

"  Well,  he  has  been  like  one  distracted,  dear  ;  he  has 
consented  at  last  to  drive  with  us ;  we  thought  it  would 
divert  him — and  he  has  ordered  some  flowers,  which  we 
are  to  place  on  dear  Martha's  grave,"  and  she  stroked  the 
little  hand  soothingly.  "  He  thought  perhaps  you  would 
go  too  ? — No  ? — Well,  perhaps  it  is  better  not.  Now, 
when  we  come  home,"  she  added,  brightly,  "  you  will  not 
shut  yourself  up  here  any  more,  dear  ?  " 

Petrel  shook  her  head. 

"That's  a  good  child,"  kissing  her.  "Remember,  one 
week  from  to-day  is  your  wedding-day.  Why,  Petrel — 
Petrel,  what  is  it,  dear  .-'  "  Then,  with  troubled,  question- 
ing eyes,  she  added  softly,  "  You  are  sure,  dear,  that  you 
love  Claude  ?  " 

"  Love  him  !     More  than  my  own  life  !  " 

"  Well  then,  dear,  there  is  no  reason  why  all  should 
not  be  beautiful  as  a  dream  ;  no  reason  why  you 
should  not  be  as  happy  as — as  we  are.  What  can  I  say 
more  than  that?"  And  such  a  radiant  smile  shone  out 
upon  the  hopeless  face  before  her, 

"  And  now — now — I  must  go — they  are  waiting  for 
me,"  and  she  kissed  the  young  girl,  who  clung  to  her  with 
a  strange  intensity.  As  she  reached  the  door  she  looked 
back  with  another  bright  smile  : 

"  Remember,  no  more  locking  of  doors." 

"  No," 

"  You  promise  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  promise." 


CHAPTER  LXXIII. 

The  day  was  beautiful  beyond  description,  and  the 
breath  of  flowers  and  the  promise  of  near  joys  of  summer 
dissipated  all  thoughts  of  sadness,  as  they  drove  back  in  the 
open  landau.  The  river  flowed  majestically  in  its  turbid 
splendor,  and  as  they  watched  the  out-going  steamer,  with 
its  freight,  Claude  thought  with  supreme  gladness  that 
after  one  more  week  he  and  Petrella  would  be  on  board 
of  that  same  vessel,  on  their  way  to  St.  Paul ! 

Arriving  at  the  hotel,  Isabel  said  : 

"  Now,  Frank,  you  go,  and  bring  Petrel  to  our  room, 
and  Claude  and  I  will  wait  for  her  there." 

Frank  Clayton  went  with  glad  step  to  the  door,  tapped 
lightly,  and  without  waiting,  entered.  It  was  empty.  He 
looked  about,  with  a  feeling  of  bewilderment,  and  con- 
spicuously placed  on  the  desk,  saw  two  letters,  addressed, 
as  we  already  know,  to  himself  and  Claude. 

His  hand  could  scarcely  break  the  seal.  An  awful 
prescience  of  calamity  paralyzed  him.  From  the  opened 
letter  dropped  another — a  folded  piece  of  paper;  he  saw 
his  own  handwriting.  "Good  God  !  "  he  uttered,  as  with 
horror  he  read  the  words  he  had  written  to  Martha — then 
the  following: 

"■  My  Dear,  Dear,  Good  Guardian  and  Friend  : — 

"My  dream  of  happiness  is  over.  You  have  been 
like  an  angel  to  me — you  and  your  beautiful  wife. 
But  I  must  go ;  there  is  no  other  wa3%  I  have 
thought  and  thought,  and  I  can  see  no  escape  but  in 
effacing  my  wretched  existence.  It  would  be  easy  to 
end  it  all — but — I  cannot  do  that — God  save  me  from 
that  sin  !  I  love  Claude  too  much  to  bring  this  shame 
upon  him.     So,  farewell !     Try  to  think  kindly  of 

"  Your  unhappy 

"  Petrel." 

Claude  and  Isabel  waited ;  and  when  Clayton  returned 


340  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

with  that  terrible  loolc  in  his  face  they  were  smitten  with 
vague  terror. 

"She's  not  there— read  those,"  he  gasped;  and  thrust- 
ing the  letters  into  Claude's  hand,  he  seized  his  hat  and 
ran  in  wild  haste  down-stairs. 

Claude  was  too  bewildered  at  first  to  understand 
fully — then  uttered  a  cry  of  pain,  as  if  mortally  wounded, 
and  rushed  like  a  madman  afier  Clayton,  whom  he  met 
returning. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  '*  said  he,  seizing  his  arm. 

"Just  as  I  supposed  ;  she  was  on  that  steamer.  Come, 
we  can  overtake  her." 

In  another  moment  the  two  men  were  driving  furiously 
toward  the  river.  A  small  steamboat  had  just  landed  her 
passengers ;  and  five  minutes  later  they  were  on  the 
bosom  of  the  great  stream  they  had  idly  watched  a  half- 
hour  ago — in  pursuit  of  the  out-going  steamer.  More 
and  more  steam  was  put  on,  in  answer  to  their  entreaties; 
and  in  an  hour  they  could  see  the  vessel  ahead  of  them. 
Nearer,  nearer,  they  came,  until  they  could  distinguish 
people  moving  about  her  deck.  On,  on,  they  went,  silent, 
and  intent  only  upon  the  looming  object  in  front  of  them. 
The  sun  was  sinking  in  dying  splendor,  when  suddenly 
there  seemed  an  excitement  upon  the  deck  of  the  steamer, 
and  oh,  horror  !  there  was  smoke  rising  out  of  the  hatchway. 
A  moment  later  her  head  was  turned  toward  the  shore. 
The  increasing  volume  of  dense  smoke,  with  red  tongues 
of  flame,  shot  forth,  showing  the  conflagration  must  have 
been  well  under  way  before  discovered. 

The  pursuing  vessel  was  now  near  enough  to  distin- 
guish, individuals  amid  the  wild  confusion  which  prevailed 
upon  the  upper-deck  of  the  doomed  steamer. 

"There  she  is!  There  she  is!"  cried  Claude,  wildly; 
and,  stretching  out  his  arms,  called,  "  Petrella  !  O  my 
Petrella  !  " 

Yes,  it  was  she,  standing  by  the  rail,  her  long  gray  veil 
floating  in  the  wind,  her  eyes  fastened  upon  the  little 
boat,  and  her  face  fixed  and  white  as  if  frozen. 

"  We  come  for  you,  my  Petrella.  You  are  safe  !  "  said 
Claude,  wildlv  waving  to  her.  "Do  not  flee  from  me! 
Come,  come  ! "  and  he  held  out  his  arms. 

They  could  not  hear  the  cry  of  recognition,  but  as  she 
extended  her   arms,  as   if  in   supplication,   the   look   of 


THE    STORMY    PETREL.  34 1 

despair  melted  into  an  expression  of  Iiope  and  almost  of 
rapture  ;  and  as  she  folded  her  hands  tightly  across  her 
heart,  she  eagerly  bent  forward,  as  if  to  read  what  was  in 
those  two  faces  she  had  never  hoped  to  see  again.  So 
intent  was  this  gaze,  she  seemed  not  to  heed  the  flames, 
whose  breath  she  must  have  felt  now. 

"  Stay  where  you  are  !  "  shouted  the  men.  "  We  will 
save  you  !  " 

At  that  moment  a  gust  of  wind  caught  up  a  billowy 
mass  of  smoke  and  flame,  and  swept  it  right  across  the 
spot  where  she  stood.  Through  it  they  saw  something 
which  looked  like  a  bird  with  outstretched  wings  descend- 
ing into  the  water. 

The  black,  lurid  waves  rolled  slowly  away,  but  they 
seemed  to  have  swallowed  up  Petrella.  She  was  gone. 
When  she  felt  the  fiery  breath  of  that  sheet  of  smoke  and 
flame,  she  had  sought  refuge  in  the  water.  Swift  as 
thought  the  small  boat  was  lowered,  and  three  men  were 
in  it,  silent,  horror-stricken,  as,  with  oars  bending  under 
the  strain,  they  shot  toward  the  spot  which  had  engulfed 
her.  Once  she  had  risen  to  the  surface,  and  now  a 
second  time  they  saw  her  come  up  from  the  cruel  depths 
into  the  fading  sunlight. 

Strong  arms  caught  her  and  drew  her  into  the  boat. 
There  was  no  sign  of  life  in  the  form  Claude  clasped  in 
almost  delirious  joy.  Back  they  went  to  the  waiting 
steamboat,  carrying  tenderly  their  precious  burden. 

Restoratives  were  applied.  "  'Tain't  no  use,"  the  cap- 
tain said,  pointing  to  a  slight  contusion  on  the  temple. 
"  That's  what  done  it.  She  hit  somethin'  floatin'  in  the 
water." 

He  was  right :  there  was  no  use.  The  poor,  tired  heart 
made  one  or  two  faint  attempts  to  take  up  its  work,  then 
stopped,     Petrella  was  dead  ! 

Again  the  great  hotel  was  enshrouded  in  darkness, 
excepting  only  the  long,  dimly-liglited  halls.  Again  the 
young  girl  was  back  in  her  own  room,  not  wringing  her 
hands  and  uttering  piteous  ejaculations,  but  lying  upon 
her  bed,  and  oh,  so  white  and  still !  That  soft,  lace- 
trimmed  gown  was  made  by  Martha's  loving  hands,  and 
many  visions  of  her  darling's  happiness  were  wrought  into 
its  snowy  folds  ;  and  now  she  lies  within  it  cold  and  still. 


342  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

There  was  no  more  to  be  done.  Isabel  had  dismissed 
her  attendants,  and  sank,  exhausted  with  weeping,  into  a 
chair — the  same  in  which  she  had  seen  the  poor  child,  a 
few  hours  ago.  The  door  opened,  and  the  two  men 
entered,  Clayton  half-supporting  his  friend,  who,  with  a 
wild,  heart-rending  cry,  sank  down  by  the  side  of  the  bed. 

Appalled  by  his  frenzied  grief,  Isabel  clung  affrighted 
to  her  husband. 

"Dearest,"  he  whispered,  "you  must  not  witness  this. 
It  is  too  terrible,"  and  placing  his  arm  about  her,  drew 
her  tenderly  out  of  the  room,  softly  closing  the  door  upon 
Claude  and  his  dead  bride. 


CHAPTER  LXXIV. 

CONCLUSION. 

A  GREAT  eclipse  had  fallen  upon  their  joy.  Still  the 
roses  bloomed  brightly  at  The  Glen  that  summer ;  the 
trees  waved  their  pliant  branches  in  languorous  rapture 
in  the  breeze  ;  and  the  sun  shone  just  as  gladly  as  if  its 
rays  did  not  fall  on  that  freshly-sodded  mound. 

There  were  glad  hearts  when  the  gentle  mother  and 
Roland  came  from  the  Pacific  Coast. 

Kate  Fletcher,  who  now  occupied  Beechwood,  her  old 
home,  and  Isabel  became  the  dearest  of  friends,  and  the 
attachment  which  swiftly  ripened  between  Roland  and 
the  fair  young  Katrine  knit  their  hearts  together  by  a  new 
bond  under  the  genial  rays  of  a  Kentucky  sun. 

At  last  Kate  knew  why  Frank  Clayton  had  so  persist- 
ently defeated  her  desire  to  meet  Petrel  :  the  tragic  fate 
of  the  poor  child  was  so  intertwined  with  all  the  threads 
of  her  sad  story,  he  could  no  longer  conceal  it.  But  time 
had  softened  early  resentments  and  grief,  and  none 
mourned  the  loss  of  the  beautiful  Petrella  more  than 
Bernard  Fletcher's  widow. 

Letters,  heart-rending  letters,  came  from  Claude,  from 
Sorrento.     His  grief  was  beyond  earthly  consolation. 

"  Do  you  know,  Frank,"  Isabel  said,  "  I  should  not  be 
at  all  surprised  if  dear  Claude  should  take  orders  in  a 
monastery.  He  is  devout,  and  he  is  hopelessly  wretched  ; 
so  what  is  more  natural  ?" 

It  seemed  like  old  times  to  have  Ned  and  Eliza  there  ; 
for,  much  as  they  loved  Claylonville,  those  two  devoted 
people  would  come  back  to  the  old  place  when  they  found 
"Mars  Frank  "  was  going  to  make  it  his  home. 

As  Clayton  sat  dreaming  upon  the  piazza,  he  heard 
Eliza  say,  "  Miss  Belle,  you  see  dat  big  apple-tree  over 
yonder?  Well,  dat's  just  whar  Mars  Frank  stood  on  his 
pony,  all  mixed  up  wid  de  blossoms  dat  day,  when  I 
called  Miss  Fanny  to  come  and  look  at  him." 


344  THE    STORMY    PETREL. 

Her  young  mistress  was  always  a  willing  listener  to 
such  reminiscences,  especially  when  they  were  about 
"  Miss  Fanny  "  and  "  Mars  Frank  "  ;  and,  as  their  voices 
were  lost  in  the  distance,  Frank  thought  of  his  mother, 
and  then  of  the  present ;  and  a  great  peace  settled  upon 
his  heart. 

He  recalled  his  childhood,  his  grief  at  his  mother's 
death,  the  dawning  sense  of  the  injustice  of  slavery  as  he 
grew  older,  the  atrocities  committed  upon  Ned,  the  strug- 
gles with  his  uncle  and  Bernard,  and  finally  the  manu- 
mission and  colonization  of  his  negroes. 

Then  recollections  both  bright  and  sad  crowded  upon 
him,  as  he  saw  Isabel,  Petrel,  Duvall,  John  Brown — 
the  struggle  in  Kansas — the  four  years  of  horrible  fratrici- 
dal strife — drifted  past  his  mental  vision.  How  much 
sutTering  there  had  been  !  What  hours  terrible  to  endure, 
what  moments  which  were  burnt  into  his  brain  I  And 
then,  what  joy,  what  peace  !  And  as  he  looked  up,  and 
saw  his  wife  coming  through  the  trees,  beautiful,  fresh, 
and  lovelier  than  the  flowers  on  her  breast,  a  great  wave 
of  gladness  swept  over  him. 

Slie  was  holding  in  her  hand  a  long  envelope  which 
she  gave  to  her  husband,  saying  :  "  Kate's  maid  has  just 
brought  this  from  her  mistress  at  Beech  wood.  I  told  her 
to  wait,  as  it  might  need  a  reply." 

Frank  opened  the  package  which  contained  some  folded 
sheets  of  foolscap,  and  a  half  sheet  of  note-paper. 

Was  that  Kate's  writing  ?  He  examined  its  broken, 
tremulous  lines  in  surprise  and  wonder. 

"Read  this.  It  has  just  come  addressed  to  papa, 
evidently  sent  by  some  one  unaware  of  his  death.  My 
God  !  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  Unhappy  girl !  And  I — I 
brought  much  added  suffering  into  her  life  !  God  forgive 
me,  and  all  of  us  !     Too  late — too  late  for  reparation  now  I 

"  Kate." 

Amazed  and  bewildered  by  these  incoherent  words, 
Frank  opened  the  long,  soiled  sheets  covered  with 
strange  scrawling  characters,  and  read  as  follows  : 

"  The  following  is  the  sworn  statement  of  Ben 
Baugh  niade  in  view  of   his  approaching  death." 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  345 

"  I  swear  to  God,  that  the  story  i  am  goin  ter  tell  is 
trew. 

"  In  the  3'ear  1S4-  Thomas  Hawks  cum  to  me  one  day 
and  sed  he  had  a  job  that  wud  pay  him  a  big  jiile  er 
money,  but  he  must  have  sumbody  to  help  him,  an  if  i 
cud  keep  a  silent  tung  in  my  head,  he'd  go  snacks  with 
me.  Well,  the  long  and  short  of  it  wuz,  i  sed  i  wud ;  then 
he  tole  me  how  a  great  swell  over  in  Ital}'^  wanted  ter  gil 
rid  of  a  kid,  that  there  was  a  big  fortune  which  wud  cum 
to  him,  if  she  wuz  out  er  ther  way,  caus  he  wuz  next  er 
Kin,  i  never  knowd  jest  how  much  Swag  Hawks  was  to 
git,  but  he  promised  me  5000  dollars  if  i  helped  him  threw 
and  got  ther  gurl  in  New  Orleans  all  rite,  where  i  cud  sell 
her  easy,  and  the  money  fur  the  sale  was  throwd  in  for 
my  shair,  caus  he  didn't  want  ter  have  nothink  ter  do  with 
it  on  this  side  ther  water,  so  i  went  into  ther  cussed  biz- 
ness.  It  took  a  mity  deal  of  plannin  and  waiiin  and  a 
deal  of  money,  too,  but  the  swell  over  in  Italy  he  lixed 
that  all  rite. 

"  I  went  over  there  and  wuz  nigh  onto  a  year  hangin 
round  and  waiiin,  fust  in  Rome  then  in  Sorento,  where 
they  had  a  house  big  as  the  City  Hall,  with  grounds 
like  a  park  and  fountens  and  white  statures  and  windin 
walks  and  fellers  with  red  coats  trimmed  with  gold  lace,  a 
hangin  round  the  big  portico  all  the  time,  and  when  the 
kid  cum  out  to  play  ther  wuz  nurses  with  caps  and  ribands 
runnin  after  her  every  miimit.  So  agin  and  agin  we  slipt 
up,  till  it  looked  like  we  never  wud  git  a  chants  at  hur,  but 
wun  day,  she  cum  dartin  down  the  side  of  the  hege  aloan, 
and  quickern  a  flash,  i  clapt  my  big  coat  over  hur,  and 
stopt  hur  mouth  with  my  hand  so  she  cudnt  screem,  and 
in  2  seconds  we  wuz  in  a  carriage  an  in  2  minnits  more  we 
wuz  outer  site.  It  makes  me  kinder  sick  to  think  about 
that  baby  how  she  took  on  that  day,  it  seem'd  like  shed  go 
inter  fits,  then  she  got  wore  out,  and  laid  kinder  stupid 
like,  we  had  her  safe  on  board  ship  that  nite.  An  italyan 
woman  with  a  red  hankerchuft  tide  round  hur  hed  and 
big  gold  hoops  in  hur  eers  took  her  on  bord  and  made 
out  like  it  wuz  hur  own  baby.  Nobody  suspected,  cause 
all  hur  fine  close  wuz  took  off  and  hur  long  curls  cut 
short.  I  uset  to  feel  sorry  for  the  pore  little  thing,  she 
moaned  and  moaned  fit  to  brake  yur  hart,  and  wud  call 
Madra}\  Madray,  and  then  the  woman  wud  giv  her  suth- 


34^  THE   STORMY   PETREL. 

ing  oulen  a  bottle  an  shed  quiut  down  agin  and  go  off 
sorter  stoopid  like,  she  got  so  thin  her  own  muther  vvodnt 
er  knowd  hur,  and  i  thout  shed  dj^e,  i  wish  now  i  had  tola 
the  hole  cussed  story  wen  we  got  to  New  Orleans  and  let 
Hawks  do  his  wust — dam  him — wen  we  got  to  New 
Orleans  i  put  her  on  a  plantation  whair  a  frend  of  mine 
wuz  overseer,  so  shed  play  with  the  little  niggers  and  git 
to  be  jest  like  them  in  hur  ways,  but  she  never  did  a  mite. 
She  wuz  only  3  years  old  but  she  knowd  hur  own  name, 
and  wen  ennybody  called  her  Martha  she  wud  stamp  hur 
little  foot  and  say  no,  no,  Cecilia,  til  she  foun  she  got  a 
beatin  evry  time  she  dun  it,  and  at  last  she  giv  up  and 
dursnt  say  Cecilia  no  more,  but  that  wuz  hur  name,  and 
the  name  of  the  cove  that  got  rid  of  hur  and  got  her  for- 
tune is — 1  forgit  it  now,  but  i  think  it  is  Valerias  and  he 
lived  near  Sorento,  And  all  i  hope  iz  that  this  iznt 
too  late  to  have  hur  rites  given  to  hur,  and  that  blak 
harted  villin  punisht  for  what  he  dun  to  hur,  and  fur  git- 
ten  me  into  a  scrape  witch  has  ruind  mi  life  fur  i  aint  had 
a  minnits  peace  sence  i  dun  it.  Wunst  in  New  Orleans, 
nigh  onto  10  years  after  i  went  to  the  theatur  and  seen 
jest  sutch  a  grate  White  Cassle  and  grouns  and  flunkies 
standin  round  drest  in  red  coats  and  silk  stockins,  and  i 
bolted  outer  that  theatur  zif  i  wuz  shot.  Well  to  continue 
mi  story — i  took  her  up  to  the  slave  market  at  New 
Orleans  long  with  a  likely  wench  pritty  nye  white  who 
wuz  goin  ter  be  sold.  An  she  vowed  to  Mr.  Stanly  who 
took  a  grate  fancv  to  the  child  that  twas  hur  gurl  but  she 
sed,  she  hopd  hed  buy  hur  caus  he  lookt  like  hed  be  kind 
to  hur,  the  minnit  he  clapt  eyes  on  her  he  sed,  thals  jest 
wot  i  want  fur  a  present  fur  mi  Kate,  i  tole  him  the  price 
an  he  pade  it  rite  down  and  went  off  with  ther  gurl  pleased 
as  ennything,  i  knowd  the  woman  was  savin  up  money  to 
by  hur  freedom  to  jine  hur  husband  whod  run  away 
north,  so  I  tole  hur  if  she  helpt  me  this  way  and  made  out 
the  girl  wus  hurs,  i  wud  give  hur  a  20  dollar  gold  peace, 
an  i  dun  it  too,  hur  name  is  Ofelia  Jonson,  and  if  you  cood 
find  her  shed  tell  yer  this  is  God's  truth  that  i'm  tellin, 
hur  husband  wuz  coachmen  to  a  rich  swell  in  the  north 
somewhar,  an  i  guess  she  jined  him  thair  if  she  didnt  die, 
fur  she  was  mity  determind  and  wuz  sot  on  goin  so  that 
wuz  all  i  knowd  about  the  gurl  til  more  an  15  years  after, 
wen  i  met  Hawks  on  a  steamer  comin  down  the  river  and 


THE   STORMY   PETREL.  347 

he  was  in  mity  high  sperrits  about  a  gurl  hed  jist  bought. 
Somehow  i  found  outsheuset  to  belong  to  Jedge  Stanly  of 
Kentucky — and  i  jumpt  6  feet — "  by  God,"  I  sed,  "  Hawks, 
do  you  know  who  she  is  ?  " — "  No,"  he  sed — "  what  do  you 
mean  ?  " — "  Take  a  good  look  at  hur,"  sez  i,  "does  she  look 
much  like  a  nigger  ! — do  you  know  who  i  sold  that  italian 
kid  to  15  years  ago?  to  Jedge  Stanly  of  Kentucky." 
Hawks  turned  wite  as  a  sheet.  "  You  don't  say  so,"  he  sez, 
kinder  scart,  then  he  watched  her,  and  walked  roun  her  a 
good  menny  times  eyeing  hur,  an  i  saw  him  go  up  and 
talk  to  hur  in  a  soft  kinder  coaxin  way  an  i  knowd  what 
he  was  plannin,  the  scoundril,  an  i  sed,  sez  i,  "  Tom 
Hawks,  if  you  harm  that  gurl  or  her  baby  i'll  tell  the  hole 
damd  story,  cuss  me  if  i  don't,"  an  he  sed,  "Don't  you 
tryter  bluster  round  me,  Ben,  your  deeper  in  it  than  i  am." 
Well  i  lost  site  of  hur  after  that,  i  wisht  i  hadnt,  i  wisht  i 
had  braved  him,  the  bully,  but  i  didn't,  and  after  he  wuz 
dead  i  dazn't  tell  mi  part  in  it,  but  now  its  out,  and  may 
God  have  mercy  on  mi  sole  and  forgive  this  wickid  deed 
as  i  am  expectin  soon  to  die. 

"  Ben  Baugh. 
"  Witnessed 

"  James  Ferguson. 

"Sarah  Miller." 

Was  it  strange  that  Isabel  and  Kate  wept,  and  that 
Clavton's  heart  was  torn  and  wrung  as  he  came  to  under- 
stand the  cruel  circumstances  which  had  brought  about 
such  tragic  results  ?  What  would  he  not  have  given  to 
have  brought  back  life  to  those  two  beings  lying 
cold  and  still  under  the  sod  ;  to  have  been  able  to  tell 
them  the  tidings  contained  in  this  dying  confession  ;  to 
have  made  late  reparation  to  that  gentle  woman  who  had 
served  them  as  a  menial,  while  all  the  time  there  was 
patrician  blood  in  her  veins  !  Oh,  it  was  cruel  !  And  to 
have  said  to  her  daughter:  "  Lift  up  your  head,  my  child. 
You  do  not  belong  to  a  despised  race.  Your  blood  \snot 
tainted.  Your  husband's  family,  proud  though  they  be, 
need  not  fear  to  have  it  mingle  with  their  own." 

But  it  was  too  late.  The  curtain  had  dropped  on 
mother  and  child. 

There  was  but  one  thing  to  be  done  now.  Clayton  sat 
down    to  the  task  with  a  heavy  heart,  and  the  outgoing 


34^  THE   STORMY    PETREL. 

mail  carried  to  Claude  the  whole  harrowing  story.  He 
knew  well  the  wild  yearnings  and  regrets  it  would  awaken. 
But  it  must  be  done. 

Then  they  waited  for  the  wailing  cry  of  anguish  which 
was  sure  to  come  back  from  the  Italian  shores. 

Grief,  vain  regrets  and  despair  were  poured  out  upon 
the  closely-written  pages  which  soon  came  as  they  ex- 
pected. Then  with  beating  hearts  Clayton,  Isabel,  and 
Kate  Hetcher  read  these  words  : 

"You  ask  if  I  heard  of  this  abduction  years  ago.  Alas! 
Who  did  not  hear  of  it.-"  Was  not  all  Italy  talking  about 
it  ?  So  my  mother  has  often  told  me,  and  people  are  yet 
wondering  and  wondering ;  for  they  are  a  family  tres  ex- 
alte'e,  very  distinguished,  and  the  little  girl  had  very  large 
estates. 

"And  now  it  turns  out  that  it  was  all  the  work  of  that 
monster,  that  assassin.  He  ruined  my  father's  life,  and 
broke  his  heart  ;  and  now  it  was  he  who  planned  this 
devilish,  fiendish  plot.  He  it  was  who  employed  those 
men  to  steal  the  child.  Only  think,  if  I  have  not  reason 
to  curse  him  !  My  Petrella  !  My  Petrella  !  Think  you  I 
should  not  call  him  assassin? — Such  grief,  such  shame — 
when  there  was  no  cause  !  Oh,  my  God!  All  my  life  I 
heard  about  this  event.  The  disappearance  of  this  child. 
Her  mother  became  insane  and  died  in  one  year.  Thev 
thought  the  little  girl  must  have  strayed  to  the  waters' 
edge  and  slipped  in.  No  one  suspected  him,  for  was  he 
not  far  away  ? — up  the  river  Nile  with  some  friends  ?  The 
cunning  monster  !  And,  when  they  wrote  him  the  intel- 
ligence, was  he  not  so  grieved  the)'  felt  almost  sorry  for 
him  when  he  came  back  all  dressed  in  deep  black,  and 
took  possession  of  her  estates  ?  Ah  yes,  he  played  his 
part  well  ! 

"  And  now,  my  dear,  dear  friends,  I  have  only  one  thing 
to  ask,  and  I  ask  it  on  my  knees.  It  will  be  the  only 
consolation  which  can  come  to  me  before  I  join  her. 
Will  you  permit  the  dear  remains  of  my  beloved — my  bride 
— to  come  here  with  her  mother's  and  rest,  as  they  should, 
in  the  tomb  of  their  ancestors  .-'  It  is  a  fair  spot,  looking 
out  on  the  Mediterranean.  Will  this  not  be  one  act  of 
justice  to  the  mother  who  was  cruelly  torn  from  this  same 
place  ?    If  you  will  grant  my  prayer,  I  will  go  once  more  to 


THE    STORiMY    PETREL.  349 

your  land  and  I  will  bring  home  my  bride. — But  oh  !  My 
God  !  How  different  from  my  hopes  !  How  can  I  bear 
this  !  Do  you  not  pity  my  suffering,  my  despair  ?" 

"I  think  I  should  have  killed  myself  in  these  last  days 
but  for  one  thing.  ]\Iy  Church  has  saved  me  that,  and 
will  be  my  refuge  when  my  darling's  ashes  are  finally  laid 
away." 

Long  and  earnest  were  the  conferences  over  this 
appeal.  However  painful  to  their  own  feelings,  Kate  and 
Isabel  strongly  advised  that  it  be  done. 

"It  is  the  only  way  now  in  which  anything  approaching 
restoration  to  their  rights  can  be  effected,"  urged  Isabel. 
So  it  was  decided. 

A  few  weeks  later  Claude  arrived. 

What  ravages  those  monihs  had  made  I  Pale — hag- 
gard— a  look  of  intense  suffering  in  his  eyes,  they  felt 
inexpressibly  shocked  at  the  change. 

It  was  with  many  misgivings  that  they  turned  their 
faces  toward  St.  Louis.  How  would  he  endure  such 
cruel  tearing  open  of  his  wound  ?  But  an  awful  calm 
seemed  to  have  taken  possession  of  him. 

They  went  to  the  same  hotel.  With  what  terrible 
vividness  the  events  leading  to  the  tragedy  arose  before 
them  !  Again  they  drove  to  the  Cemetery,  as  on  that 
fatal  day,  and  in  iDewildered  surprise  beheld,  at  the  head 
of  the  mother's  grave  a  simple,  white  marble  cross,  on 
which  was  inscribed  only: 

MY  MOTHER. 

June  30th.,   1865. 

Had  she  come  back  to  pay  this  last  tribute  to  that 
mother  }     When  was  it  done  ? 


It  was  on  a  beautiful  autumnal  day  that  the  ashes  of 
the  child  who  was  stolen  away  years  ago,  touched  once 
more  the  soil  of  her  native  home,  and  the  promised  bride 
of  Claude  reposed  under  the  olive-trees,  in  the  land  of 
their  happy  dreams. 


Finis, 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


•ji^>^^ 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
126 


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